So it Begins
by isaytoodlepip
Summary: And in the end...the funeral, the will, the stone, and the hope. Thanks you, all of my readers. See you again soon, hopefully. R/R
1. Default Chapter

Chapter One

It used to be that Harry Potter hated nothing more than the Dursleys. Not even Brussels sprouts. Not even troll booger- flavored jellybeans. Not even the cramped, dark, spider-infested cupboard under the stairs of Number Four, Privet Drive, where Harry had once been forced to sleep. But that had all changed when Harry discovered that he was a wizard and went off to Hogwarts, the school that was more of a home to him than that stupid cupboard. Yet, as wonderful as Hogwarts was, Harry soon found that there were worse things than the Dursleys, even Dudley, the fat twit. One of those things was Professor Snape, who hated Harry just as much, or even more, in return. But Snape did have a few good points, like saving Harry's neck once or twice. Then there was Voldemort (or You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or any other hyphenated nickname for the evil wizard that was bound to come after Harry and any other Muggle-lover that stood in his way). But Harry had always managed to escape from Voldemort's clutches before a deadly ray of green light blasted him. And even though Snape always gave him bad marks and even though Voldemort had killed his parents, not to mention a hundred others, including Cedric, Harry's schoolmate and friend, there was still one person that Harry hated even more. Draco Malfoy. 

In general, Harry loathed summer vacations. After all, he always had to go back to live with the Dursleys, who were not exactly fond of him in normal circumstances. But this summer was the worst, all because of Fred and George Weasley. The Weasley twins, who were the older brothers of Harry's best friend, Ron, were known to be experts at the practical joke and last summer, just before Harry went off to stay with the Weasleys and go to the Quidditch World Cup final, the twins played one of their pranks on Dudley, Harry's dull-witted, large-wasted cousin. In fact, when Fred and George were done with him, Dudley was even fatter, his tongue ballooning up to the size of a rather large boa constrictor. It was hilarious at the time, but now that Harry was back under the Dursleys' roof, things were far from funny. No longer frightened by the threats of retaliation if Harry's godfather, the escaped killer Sirius Black, heard about any mistreatment, Uncle Vernon moved Harry from Dudley's second room back to his old cupboard. "Just as well," Harry had lied. "I could curse my way out of here any time." Unfortunately for Harry, Uncle Vernon knew this was a bluff and that Harry, as an under-aged wizard, was forbidden to practice magic in the Muggle world, so all Harry got out of his threat was a sneer. Harry did write and complain to Sirius, but as his godfather was not really a murderer and had more important things to deal with, his only advice was to hang in there and keep an eye out for You-Know-Who, who had regained a lot of power during Harry's last term. 

As bad as his summers were though, Harry was usually comforted by the fact that he had a couple of Draco-free months, which were worth sleeping in that dusty cupboard. Which is why Harry nearly exploded when he read the letter a familiar-looking eagle owl had dropped at the foot of the stairs for him in early July. 

**Hey Potter,**

Guess who's got a brand new Firebolt! Father even paid the company to customize it to my build and with all of the added features, it'll leave yours in the dust. In fact, I'm so sure that I could knock you off your broom, I challenge you to a Quidditch match. Just throw together a team, if you can find that many friends, and meet me in the park at Hogsmeade on July 17, if you're not too chicken.

_Draco Malfoy_

There was nothing Harry would like better than to see Malfoy's face smashed in by a bludger or two, but there were several problems with this challenge. For one thing, Harry had given his word both to Sirius and Professor Dumbledore, Hogwarts' headmaster, that he would stay with the Dursleys until he heard otherwise from them. Also, he had no idea how to put together a Quidditch team in nine days. Still, he couldn't back down from Malfoy without a fight. So Harry called the one person that would try to talk him out of it.

"Hello?"

"Hi Hermione, it's Harry."

"Oh, Harry! It's great to hear from you, especially because I was reading up on Quidditch and I…"

"Wait! Why were you reading about Quidditch? You hate flying."

"I know, but I thought you might need me for your team. I know you don't think I'm that good, but I've been practicing every day and…"

"Hold on a minute! How do you know about my team? I only just got Malfoy's challenge by owl a minute ago!"

"Honestly, Harry. How many times have I told you that you should subscribe to _The Daily Prophet_? There was an article in there three days ago about Lucius Malfoy renting Hogsmeade Park for the summer so Draco could play junior Quidditch, and when the journalist (thank goodness it wasn't that awful Skeeter woman, but I've got her under control) asked Draco about the teams he plans on playing, Malfoy said that he challenged you but he figures you're too scared of his new firebolt because he hadn't heard back from you yet."

"Maybe because he only challenged me this morning."

"Well, I think you can still beat him and his new broom into a pulp, and Ron says…"

"You mean you approve of this? You?!"

"Well, Harry, it's only a game, isn't it?"

"But I'm not supposed to leave the house! And what about Lucius Malfoy? You know he's the biggest Death Eater around! He could be up to something! And how am I supposed to put a proper team together in time?" Harry was embarrassed by sounding so worried over a simple Quidditch match, but mainly he was surprised by Hermione's reaction to it all. Normally, she would have threatened to tell Dumbledore in order to keep Harry out of trouble.

"For one thing," she answered, "I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore and Sirius know about it, especially because they read _The Prophet_. And you still have more than a week to write one of them and ask if it's ok. Besides, Mr. Malfoy wouldn't dare try anything in public so soon after last time. He's so scared of Azkaban, he'll wait until You-Know-Who is really strong until he does anything too illegal. As for the team, Ron's working on putting one together as we speak. So just send Hedwig off to Sirius now and then call me when you get a response. Ron says you can stay with him until the match so the team can practice."

Harry felt very odd when he hung up the phone. Normally, Hermione was the cautious one. What was going on? Harry just told himself that his last encounter with Voldemort had rattled his nerves a bit more than he had thought and that everything would be ok. Soon, he wasn't the only one saying that. Hedwig came back with Sirius's response the next morning, which told Harry that his godfather was both alive and close by, two very comforting facts.

****__

Dear Harry,

Already heard about the challenge from Dumbledore. We both agree that it's up to you. Can't say where I am or what I'm doing, but we know You-Know-Who is out of the country, trying to round up supporters. If you decide to play against Malfoy, please send an owl to Hagrid letting him know. He and the real Mad-Eye Moody are staying in Hogsmeade that weekend and I'd feel better if they were there to watch for any foul-play.

****

_Sirius_

So that settled it. Harry gave word to Hagrid and Hermione and told the Dursleys he was leaving for two weeks. "The hell you are!" screamed his Uncle Vernon. "You aren't going anywhere but back to the ruddy cupboard!" 

Harry was tempted to say that he was leaving no matter what Uncle Vernon said, but he decided that there was a better way to go about getting permission. "Didn't you mention something about a big business dinner here on Friday? It would be a shame if my owl turned up right when you were serving dessert, wouldn't it? Or if my friend Ron came calling with his flying car, like before?" 

Uncle Vernon turned an interesting shade of purple, while Aunt Petunia stammered on about the neighbors and the embarrassment of it all. "I think it would be a good idea for you to visit your friend. Go. Now." 

Mr. Dursley had barely finished speaking when Harry ran off to get his things. Harry was relieved that Uncle Vernon had never learned the fate of the Weasleys' flying car, which was living wild somewhere in the Forbidden Forrest at the edge of Hogwarts. After Harry had packed some clothes, his Firebolt and broom servicing kit, he told Hedwig that he would be back in two weeks as he carried his bag to the fire place, which Mr. Dursley had left open after the Weasleys broke through it last summer. Harry had bought some Floo powder in Diagon Alley last year and only hoped he had enough to get him and his bags to Ron's house in one piece. After throwing the powder into the flames, he slowly stepped into the fireplace and calmly said, "The Burrow."

After a short but nauseating ride, Harry ended up in the Burrow, a cramped and beaten-up old house that Harry would have given anything to live in. But something wasn't quite right. It was quiet. In all of the times Harry had been there, the house had never been quiet, especially with all of the explosions coming from Fred and George's room. But then Harry looked out of the bay window and saw that the entire family was picnicking outside. Just then, Ron caught his eye and waved. 

"Oy! Harry! Come out here!" 

Mrs. Weasley jumped to her feet to give Harry a hug as he stepped outside. "Hello, dear. How have you been?" 

"Fine, thanks," he answered as he sat down between Ron and his blushing little sister, Ginny. 

"Hi, Harry," she greeted shyly. It was no secret that Ginny Weasley had the biggest crush on Harry. 

"Hey, Ginny, how's your summer been?" She didn't have a chance to answer as Ron cut her off, eager to talk Quidditch. 

"Awfully glad you took that scum up on his offer, Harry. Now, our real problem is finding a decent Keeper. Fred and George can be Beaters, you're the Seeker obviously, and me, Hermione, and Cho can be Chasers, but…"

"Cho Chang?" Harry interrupted, suddenly aware that his cheeks were getting hot.

"Yeah, I know she's usually a Seeker but…"

"Cho said she would be on my team?" This was too good to be true.

"Yes, but Harry, that's not the problem! We don't have a Keeper!"

"Oh, I forgot that Wood graduated." Oliver Wood had been Gryffindor's Keeper and team captain two years ago, but with the Quiddtich hiatus from last year, it had slipped Harry's mind. "Do you know where he is now?"

"Been promoted from the reserve team to the regular Puddmere United. They're playing in Eastern Europe this month," answered Mr. Weasley, who usually kept good track of people.

"How about Alicia, Angelina, or Katie?" asked Harry.

"You know, I forgot to ask Angelina!" answered Ron, as he slapped himself on the forehead rather loudly.

"How could you forget about Angelina? She's only the hottest girl on the team!" replied George, but he dropped the subject rather quickly once he caught the look on his mother's face.

"But she's a Chaser," Ron continued, "so that means Cho or I will have to be the keeper."

"Why not Hermione?" asked Harry, even though he knew the answer. Hermione was terrible at sports.

"Don't be a dolt! The only reason I'm letting her on the team is because she's here and we need three Chasers. As long as the other two do their job, we'll be fine. But there's only one Keeper and it's not going to be her. She'd probably just sit on her broom, quoting from _Quidditch through the Ages_ as the quaffle flies bye." 

Harry tried hard not to laugh, as his mouth was full with a delicious treacle tart. Once he had finished eating, he told Ron and the twins what he had decided. "Right. Fred and George will be the Beaters, Angelina, Ron and Hermione will be Chasers, and Cho will be keeper, since it's a lot closer to the Seeker position and a lot further from the bludgers. But what about brooms? We can't get to the school brooms to replace your Shooting Star and Cleansweeps, and Cho's only got a Comet."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" exclaimed Ron, suddenly looking very proud. "Fred and George bought Nimbus 2000s for the whole family!" Then he whispered into Harry's ear, "Don't know where they got the money, though." Harry knew. It was his prize money from the Triwizard Tournament. "And Angelina could borrow her parents' 2001s for her and Cho, and Cho can lend her stinking Comet to Hermione for the match." With that settled, Ron sent Pig off with letters to the other teammates, telling them to meet at the Burrow the next afternoon.

Harry slept better that night than he had all summer. For some reason, being with the Weasleys made his nightmare about Voldemort's return to power disappear. Just before he had gone to bed, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had pulled Harry into the kitchen to talk.

"How have you been getting along?" asked Mr. Weasley with a look of concern. 

"I'm doing alright, Mr. Weasley. Apart from being worried about everyone, that is." 

"What do you mean, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley. Harry loved that she always called him "dear".

"Sirius and you two and Dumbledore and everyone that is going to fight against Vold…I mean You-Know-Who. Even Snape. I know that You-Know-Who isn't in England for now, but it's only a matter of time before he starts killing people again, isn't it? Can you tell me anything about what's been going on?" Harry doubted that they would, though. Even though he had faced Voldemort before and come through on the other side, people still saw him as just a kid. Sometimes though, Harry didn't mind that too much. Thinking about having the most powerful dark wizard in ages as your mortal enemy wasn't exactly the mark of a normal childhood. 

Mrs. Weasley just smiled at him, and Harry could see what was coming. "I know that you have a lot invested in this battle, Harry, but you have to remember that, for now at least, this isn't your fight. As much as you'd hate to admit it, you are just a boy. It's best if you just let us worry for you for the moment. Even Arthur and I can be brave, like you. All of us are just fine for now, that I can say." It wasn't very assuring, but Harry took Mrs. Weasley's advice and went to bed thinking about Quidditch and Cho, instead of Voldemort and Death Eaters.


	2. Two

Author's note: this is my first fic, so be nice. And none of these people belong to me. Surprisingly, I only own a few people, and they're too busy kissing the ground a walk on and making me Belgian waffles to be in this story, so there.

Chapter Two

"C'mon, gerrup Harry!" Harry awoke to Ron poking his head with a broomstick. The sun was barely shining through the small window, illuminating the orange décor of Ron's room. "The team is downstairs waiting!" goaded Ron, shoving Harry's glasses onto his face. 

"It's not 2 already, is it?" Harry asked, crawling into his newly acquired Chudley Cannons jersey (a present from Fred and George). 

"No, only seven, but they all showed up early." Harry grumbled and made for the bed, until Ron threw in that Cho was asking about him. 

"What'd she say?" Harry cried as he jammed his feet into his sneakers, not minding the laces. 

"She asked if you would marry her! Honestly, she just asked if you were here and if you approved of her being on the team." 

"And what did you tell her?"

"I told her that if you weren't downstairs in two seconds, it meant you though she was a blast-ended skrewt. So get a move on!"

They both ran down the stairs so fast that Harry nearly tripped and stumbled right into Cho.

"HI, Harry," she giggled, as he picked he glasses off the floor.

"Honestly, you two should be more careful!" came a stern voice from behind Harry and Ron. Ah, the good old Hermione was back.

The team practiced every morning and afternoon between then and the match, Ron because he really wanted to beat Draco Malfoy, but everyone else because it was so fun. To everyone's surprise, Hermione had improved vastly at flying and, by the week's end, she was almost as good a Chaser as Ron, much to his embarrassment. Angelina and the Weasley brothers kept saying that Professor McGonagall was bound to make Harry team captain this year. Cho, much to Harry's delight, agreed, adding that he was better than Ravenclaw's captain by scores. The time flew by and soon it was the morning of the 17th. Once everyone showed up at the Burrow, they all piled into the car that Mr. Weasley had borrowed from an old Gryffindor alumnus at the Ministry. It was a tight fit, squeezing Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the Quidditch team (which Ron had wanted to call SPEW just to make fun if Hermione, but had eventually been named the Burrow Defenders) and Ginny into one non-bewitched car, but they managed to make it to Hogsmeade Park in one piece. Harry wondered why it took them an entire day to get to Hogwarts and only two hours to get to Hogsmeade, but he didn't bother asking, since Hermione was bound to bring up something from _Hogwarts, A History._

Hogsmeade was buzzing with magical people from all over the world, not to mention Hogwarts students. Hoping to calm everyone's nerves, Harry led them to the Three Broomsticks for a round of butterbeer, but it was no use. Too many Slytherins were prowling about, wearing pins that flashed "Potter Stinks", remnants from last year's tournament. 

"Well, let's go to the bleachers," suggested Mr. Weasley, sensing that Fred was moments away from getting into a brawl with a few fifth-years that were making snide remarks about his tattered Quidditch robes. Once they reached the field, Harry could see a small group of people in the middle of the stands, holding banners that cheered him on. 

"All right, Harry?" boomed Hagrid above the din of the crowd. There was still twenty minutes before the start of the match, so they all made their way over to their small, but very enthusiastic, fan club, which included Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, the Patel sisters, Hagrid and Mad-Eye Moody (Harry let out a sigh of relief that neither of the Creevey brothers were there to take pictures and ask stupid questions). 

"So this is Harry Potter?" greeted Moody. Harry had gotten used to Moody's scarred face a roving eye, at least to the point where he didn't stare too much. What Harry had not gotten used to was the fact that the man who had called himself Moody and had taught Harry all last year was not the same man that stood before him. 

"Hello, Professor Moody," he greeted. 

"Nope, not a professor anymore. More important things to be done these days, as I'm sure you know." 

Ron, a little disappointed that they would be facing another new teacher, asked Hagrid if he knew who the professor for the Defense against Dark Arts class was going to be, but he said he didn't know. "As long as it's not Snape," Ron muttered. Harry shared that opinion, as Snape hated all Gryffindors, but especially him. 

"I doubt Severus Snape will ever get his hands on that class. Dumbledore's a trusting man, but he's not stupid. No decent parent would be comfortable with a man with his past teaching the dark arts." Harry was relieved to find Moody that had the same opinion of Snape as he did, even if he was known for being a bit paranoid. 

After wearing away the time by talking about how rotten the entire Malfoy family was, Harry led the team out towards the field. Fred and George Weasley gave a perfect imitation of Oliver Wood's old pep talk and the seven of them walked to midfield, where Draco Malfoy, and a gang of burly Slytherins, were waiting, all looking rather foul. 

"Well, Weasley, I see your parents still haven't saved up enough for decent robes," sneered Malfoy, pointing up at Ron's parents. Hermione had a job of holding Ron and his brothers back, but Harry just returned Malfoy's scowl.

"Notice you parents didn't even care enough to show up."

"There's no need for them to wish me luck, as I will inevitably win."

"More like your father didn't want all of his friends to see what a loser you are."

"My father has more important things to do, where as Weasley's dad won't be missed at his pathetic little job, and your dad, well, he's dead." 

Smack! Cho punched Draco square in the nose, just before Hermione slapped him hard across the face, bringing color to his pallid face. Malfoy put a hand up to stop Crabbe, his faithful and moronic sidekick, from retaliating, instead shouting at Harry, "You better put a leash on the little Mudblood if you know what's good for you." At this, Ron went mad and lunged for Draco's throat, only to be caught mid-air by Hermione. 

"Don't," she whispered. "We'll get him up in the air, but don't start a fight like this. No one else can hear what he's saying and you'll only get in trouble." 

Normally, Ron wouldn't have taken Hermione's advice, but Harry had begun to notice, even if Ron hadn't, that there was something going on between the two of them. Either way, Ron backed off and attention was returned to the game. 

"We decided that we will have no referee for this match, as it's more fun this way," announced Malfoy, whose nose had finally stopped bleeding. 

"Whatever you say," countered Fred, who was eager to beat a few bludgers at Draco's smug face.

The fourteen players took off in a fury, all hoping to make fools of their opponents. Within the first ten minutes, however, Malfoy and his team had scored fifty points, aided more by their fast brooms than by skill. Harry soared above the field, keeping an eye out for Draco and stray bludgers and, more importantly, the golden snitch. Malfoy had abandoned his old technique, however, and instead of staying on Harry's tail the entire game, he was off looking for the snitch by himself. Harry was glad for it, too, because, just after Hermione scored the team's first goal, Harry saw the snitch zoom right beneath Cho's robes. Making sure that none of the Slytherins were looking his way, Harry started a quick dive towards the snitch. He was within ten feet of it when he was hit hard in the face. Thrown off balance by the blow, and blinded by the combination of a bloody nose and broken glasses, Harry slipped off of his broom and began to plummet to the ground thirty feet below. Lucky for him, Hermione had been watching and, using her excellent background in Charms and the wand she had made sure to bring, she summoned three large cushions that some older wizards had been sitting on in the crowd. Harry landed rather hard on the cushions, but the fall did not leave him with any broken bones, besides his nose. At that moment, Ron shouted for a time out and the entire team, as well as Hagrid and the Weasleys, came down to see if Harry was ok. After Mr. Weasley had fixed Harry's glasses and Hermione gave him a rag to stop his nose from bleeding, Ron let out a string of words that Harry was sure he would never had normally used in front of his mother. Luckily, Hagrid was also screaming, so Ron's curses were not heard.

"It was that rotten Goyle!" Fred yelled. "I saw him race right towards you and purposely hit you with his stick!" Goyle was one of the Beaters on Draco's team. 

"Actually, I was a bit surprised that the Slytherins hadn't pulled something dirty earlier," said Harry. "But don't worry about me, I'm fine, thanks to Hermione. Let's just get back up there."

"Oh, Harry, don't! They're just awful and someone's going to get killed," said Cho. Harry hoped she wouldn't notice the smile on his face for hearing her worry about him.

"No, we'll be fine. Let's just get up there and get this thing over with."

So the game resumed, with the Defenders taking back the lead. The Slytherins continued to cheat their way around the field, going as far as doing a Tickling charm on Cho, which kept her from blocking three goals. Still, despite the temptation, Harry's team played a relatively clean game (not counting when George did a Leg-locking curse on Malfoy, which must have been very painful with the broom between his legs). About twenty minutes later, when the Defenders were ahead by thirty points, Harry saw a glint of gold about two inches from the ground. Without bothering to check where Malfoy was, he did a steep nose-dive and held out his hand. Landing harder than he would have liked to, Harry dismounted from his broom and looked up at the sky. Most of the players on both sides had not even noticed that Harry had landed, and from the field, Harry could see Crabbe hit in the head with a bludger and falling off his broom, only to land on Draco, who was a few feet below him. Once he was done laughing, Harry held up his hand, which was cupped around the Golden Snitch. 

"Oy! Ron! I'm done whenever you are!" he yelled up to his Chaser. All of the players flew to a dead stop, with a look of shock on each of their faces. How had they not noticed that the game was over? That the Slytherins had lost? Immediately there was an uproar in the crowd. Harry was glad to see that his friends had left the stand, because soon a massive brawl broke out between the two sides (Harry suspected that the real fight was over something much bigger than this one Quidditch match, but he kept it to himself). Within seconds, Harry was surrounded by his team. He even got a hug from Cho, but what was more shocking was when he caught Hermione giving Ron a big kiss on his cheek. A few years ago, Hermione had hugged the two of them, much to their disgust. But this time, Ron just pretended not to notice, which Harry found very amusing.

After the celebrations died down, the team made their way to the Three Broomsticks to celebrate some more and to clean up. As they walked, Mrs. Weasley complained about the way the Slytherins' parents had raised their children to be scoundrels, George detailed the look of horror he had seen on Malfoy's face when his legs had been separated with the help of Crabbe and Goyle, and Mr. Weasley asked how Muggles played "sock-her", as Mr. Weasley was always fascinated with the Muggle world. They reached the restaurant and the team headed into the washrooms to change and wipe the dirt and blood off their faces. 

As Ron examined his cut lip in the mirror, Harry sat thinking. "I know it was a tough game, but aren't you a little surprised that it wasn't worse?" he asked. 

"Worse! You nearly got killed, need I remind you?" Ron exclaimed. But by the look on his face, Harry could see that he was thinking the same thing. Normally, run-ins with Draco Malfoy were not as harmless. "What, do you think Malfoy's planning something for after the game?" he asked.

"Maybe," answered Harry.

"Well, the crowd sure got worked up. Maybe that's part of his plan, if he was hoping to stir something up. Listen to that, it's still going on." Ron was right. Shouts from the Quidditch field could still be heard, even inside. "That can't be about the game, can it? Maybe something else has happened." 

Harry and Ron rejoined the rest back at the table. Hagrid was looking flushed, having gone through several pints of ale already. The Weasleys were in deep conversation with Moody. Hermione, too, looked rather serious. 

"When do you reckon they'll stop fighting?" Ron asked the table as they sat down. 

"I think this is rather immature," answered Hermione. "I mean, most of the people out there are adults! If this is about the game, they really need to grow up." 

"That's just it," said Harry. "I don't think this is about the game, not really anyway." 

Mrs. Weasley nodded in agreement. "People are starting to believe that You-Know-Who is coming back and it's getting everyone antsy. The people outside are probably just blowing off some steam." 

Suddenly, there was a piercing scream from outside. "And there's the tea kettle now," joked Fred, but no one was in the mood to listen. 

"Wait here," said Mr. Weasley has he headed towards the window. Harry, Ron and Hermione obeyed for a few seconds before rushing after him, and there, they saw what the fuss was about. Across the street stood nearly fifty Death Eaters and, at their feet, were seven wizards, writhing in pain. Moody, who had come up behind Harry, softly growled, "It has begun."


	3. Three

Chapter Three

Nearly as soon as it had begun, it was over. Twenty or so Aurors apparated to the spot, stunning half of the Death Eaters before they could get away. Mrs. Weasley came to the window just behind Moody. 

"Oh my," she whispered, grabbing hold of Mr. Weasley's elbow. "Arthur, the children," she warned, and Mr. Weasley nodded and began herding Harry, Ron and Hermione back towards the table to get to the rest of the team, who were too shocked or frightened to even look at the events outside. 

"Hagrid, can you take them all out the back way and up to Hogwarts?" Mr. Weasley asked. 

Hagrid had sobered up right quick once the Death Eaters had turned up. "Right," he agreed, placing a rather firm hand on Harry's left shoulder. 

"Dad, do you have to stay?" Ron asked, trying hard not to sound too apprehensive. 

"I ought to. They probably have enough people to control the situation, but this is the first blatant attack as of yet, and it's best if I look into it. Now, Harry, I want you and everyone else to follow Hagrid back up to the school and wait there until we come back for you." 

Mr. Weasley was giving Harry a stern look that he didn't quite appreciate. He was about to say something about it when a sudden scorching pain came to his scar and he doubled over, clutching his forehead. 

"Harry!" screamed both Hermione and Cho, as they rushed forward to see if he was ok. But Harry, despite his appreciation of Cho's concern and despite the pain, which was still keeping him on the ground, was more panicked about something else. 

"Voldemort," he said to Mr. Weasley, who had already guessed what Harry's attack had meant. In the past, Harry's scar, remnants of a failed curse, had always hurt when Voldemort was nearby or planning something terrible. Mr. Weasley snapped into action. After glancing out the window and seeing that the five Death Eaters who had managed to get themselves caught were already being led away by Ministry officials, Mr. Weasley gathered up everyone in their party and led them through the back door of Three Broomsticks, with Hagrid carrying Harry, who had started convulsing from pain. 

Avoiding the crowd as much as possible, they made a dash for Hogwarts' grounds, Angelina and Cho both looking very confused. "What's wrong with Harry? Why are we going to Hogwarts?" she whispered to Hermione, who was holding on to Ginny's hand and running to keep up with Hagrid's giant strides. 

"Whenever You-Know-Who is close by, Harry's scar hurts. We're probably going to Hogwarts so that Ron's parents can talk to Professor Dumbledore," she answered, turning her attention to her right side to make sure that Ron was still there. "Ron, did you see what happened to those wizards after the Aurors showed up? Were they all right? I couldn't see." 

Ron just shook his head. "I don't know. They weren't moving, that I can tell you." 

Soon they had all reached the front doors of Hogwarts, but they didn't have to knock. Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, Hogwarts' Deputy Headmistress, were already waiting at the entrance, obviously aware of what had happened in the village. 

"Take him to the infirmary," McGonagall said to Hagrid, who wasn't looking the least bit tired after carrying Harry all that way. Ron and Hermione chased after him, Arthur and Molly Weasley followed Dumbledore and McGonagall up the stairs, and the rest of the team, along with Ginny, were left standing in the entrance way, gasping for breath and not quite knowing what to do.

Meanwhile, Harry had everyone in the infirmary rather anxious. "He's had pains in his scar before, but this just isn't right!" screamed Hermione as Madame Pomfrey tried to control Harry's seizures, which had escalated since entering the school. She was quite right. Harry had been known to have sudden pains in his head, but compared to this they were just light tickles. Harry couldn't even speak or open his eyes, the convulsions were so violent. Madame Pomfrey, ignoring all of the shouts from Ron, Hermione and Hagrid, was busy trying everything to calm Harry down. 

"Can't you just give him some Sleeping Potion or something?" suggested Ron, who by now was turning rather pale from fright. 

"Not at the moment, since he's apparently choking on his bloody tongue" she snapped, obviously unaccustomed to receiving medical advice from a bunch of fifth years. After a number of charms failed to have any effect, she threw up her hands in exasperation. "I'll just have to stun him!" she cried. But when this did not help Harry's condition in the slightest, she looked very frightened. "Someone go get the Headmaster now!" she ordered. Both Ron and Hermione took off towards the stone gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office. "The pass word is 'Canary Cream'!" she called after them.


	4. Four

Chapter Four

"Voldemort's come for him, Albus!" Sirius Black had been staying at Hogwarts the entire summer, working with Dumbledore to spy on the local wizards of Hogsmeade, sussing out their loyalties. 

"That's not necessarily true. He could just be planning something from far away and Harry's picking up on it. Where is he now?"

"As of last week, somewhere in Spain. But I wouldn't know anything about his plans for Potter. He doesn't trust me with that kind of information." Snape had indeed gone back to Voldemort, begging for forgiveness and the chance for redemption. After being subjected to the Cruciatus Curse for what seemed like an eternity, Snape was allowed back into the Death Eaters and was told to spy on the staff and pupils of Hogwarts. But his new "master" made sure to remind him every time they met that his life was now in his hands.

"I think we should assume that Voldemort is back in the country and has amassed quite a following. Now the only question is what to do about it." Remus Lupin had also returned to Hogwarts at the request of Dumbledore. In addition to helping Dumbledore gather information about Death Eater activity, Lupin had been asked to tutor Harry during his fifth year at the academy. Despite Snape's protests that this would give Harry an unfair advantage over his classmates, Dumbledore had seen a need to prepare the boy for the conflict ahead, as Voldemort had made it painfully clear that Harry Potter was his number one target. 

"Obviously Harry can't go home!" entered Mrs. Weasley, and Sirius nodded his head in agreement. "It's true, Albus. He's not safe with those Muggles."

"He is safe with his family, I have seen to that. But I do agree that I'd feel better having him closer to the magical community." Dumbledore was looking very gray and tired. He had hoped that it would take longer for Voldemort to sink back into his old habits.

"He can stay with us," offered Mr. Weasley.

"Or at Hogwarts," put in McGonagall. Snape didn't attempt to mask his opinion of that suggestion. He was about to make his objections when Hermione and Ron burst through the door. "Professor Dumbledore, Madame Pomfrey needs your help with Harry! Quick!"

Harry was still having fits when everyone arrived at the infirmary. "What have you tried, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked, putting his hand on Harry's forehead in a feeble attempt to comfort him. 

"Damn near everything!" she sighed, looking quite put out by the whole thing. 

"She even tried to stun him but it didn't work," offered Ron, who was also trying to comfort a sobbing Ginny. She and the rest of the team had made their way to the hospital wing to check on Harry. 

"It must be more than the scar then," said Lupin, who was checking under Harry's eyelids. "I wouldn't be surprised if it's a mental attack, with all of the vampires that have reportedly sided with Voldemort."

"Perhaps a Memory Charm then?" asked Sirius. "It may block a mental attack."

"It may also put him in a coma," answered McGonagall, who had taken to comforting Ginny while Ron turned to comforting Hermione, who was for once without a helpful suggestion.

"Severus, do you have any suggestions?" asked Lupin, who, despite open hostility from Snape's end, had always addressed the Potions master as a friend.

"It would take at least four days to brew anything that would block the weakest mental attack, let alone one from a vampire if your guess is true. I say that a few of us try to stun him at once. It might knock him out but he'd come around eventually, if it has any effect at all." Sirius, Ron and Hermione couldn't help but think that Snape was just dying to knock Harry out, after what they did to him in their third year.

"I agree," answered Dumbledore as he nodded to Lupin and Snape. At the count of three, they all stunned Harry. This sent him flying against the headboard of the bed, where he finally lay still, his head lolled to one side and his glasses thrown askew. Madame Pomfrey rushed to make sure that he wasn't too hurt. 

"Can't you wake him up now?" asked Ginny, who was so shocked at seeing Harry stunned that she had stopped crying. 

"No, we should let him sleep," said Madame Pomfrey, noticeably relieved that Harry was no longer thrashing about.

"I don't think that's wise," returned Lupin, who was again checking under Harry's eyelids. "If it was indeed a mental attack, we need to find out if Harry knows who did it or if they left a message of any kind. That is, if he can be woken up." At this last remark, both Ginny and Cho began sniffling again.

"Ennervate," said Sirius. After fluttering his eyelids for several seconds, Harry came to. 

"Harry, are you all right?" asked Hermione, the panic in her voice escalating. 

"Ow. Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, comforting the lump on the back of his head. 

"Harry, do you remember what happened?" Dumbledore asked, using his soft, soothing voice that he so often needed when inquiring after Harry's experiences. 

"Yes. My scar began hurting in the Three Broomsticks. Then Hagrid carried me here. And Madame Pomfrey tried to stun me. And then Hermione and Ron left to get you, and you came back, something mentioned about vampires and comas and then you sent me flying against the headboard and then Lupin poked me in the eye and said I might not wake up and Ginny and Cho cried some more and Sirius woke me up."

"How could he know all that? He looked pretty out of it," asked Ron.

"Harry," continued Dumbledore, "do you know if you were being effected by a mental attack?"

"I don't think I was. It just hurt the same as anytime my scar hurts. Well, a great deal more than it has before when Voldemort's not actually near me. It felt like he was right in front of me, that close. But I didn't hear any voices or get any messages."

"I don't understand," said Sirius. "Why didn't the stun work the first time?"

"I think I might have blocked it. I didn't mean to, but I think that's what happened," answered Harry. 

"Didn't you get knocked out by the three stuns?" asked Ron again. "You shouldn't have been able to hear what Lupin said if you were really stunned."

"Harry probably tried to block those as well," answered Moody, who until now had remained quiet. "He learned a lot preparing last year, but not enough to keep the wind from being knock out of him."

"Then why did the pain in his scar stop at that moment if he'd blocked them?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"A think a better question is why Potter's reaction was so strong if Voldemort is not in this castle." Snape had voiced the matter that was on everyone's mind but no one had wanted to bring up.

"Children, Hagrid, Poppy, you all stay here for the night. The rest of you please come with me," said Dumbledore. After all of the professors and the rest had left, the team gathered around Harry, drowning him in hugs and professions of severe punishment if he ever pulled a stunt like that again. Once Madame Pomfrey had quieted everyone down and set up beds for the night, Hermione and Ron rolled their hospital beds closer to Harry's. 

"Are you sure you're ok?" Ron asked. 

"Well, I do have a bit of a headache, but I'm more concerned about something else," he answered, lowering his voice. 

"What's that?" Hermione asked, settling in under the sheets. 

"I never learned how to block three strong stun spells without using my wand."


	5. Five

Chapter Five

After a search of the castle and all of the grounds for any sign of Voldemort or his Death Eaters had turned up nothing, Dumbledore and the rest had returned to his office. 

"Professor, we should ask Potter to let us into the Chamber of Secrets in the morning, just to be safe," suggested Snape.

"Yes, we'll see to that. Remus, do you have any opinions on this situation?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well, seeing as Harry was aware of _everything_ that went on this evening, I'd like to think that it was not a mental attack. It is nearly impossible to maintain clarity when someone is invading your mind. Still, he had all of the signs."

"Albus, why would Harry be affected like that if You-Know-Who isn't here?" asked McGonagall, shivering at the memory of Harry's seizures. 

"That is what worries me," answered Dumbledore. "As Harry said, his scar felt like Voldemort was present. I do not understand why this is so."

"Maybe it was Voldemort himself attacking Harry," suggested Sirius. "Last time they met, you said that their wands made a special connection because of their shared cores. Is it possible that Voldemort can use this fact to his advantage, and that Harry maintained his control just like he blocked those stunning spells?"

"But that's impossible," Lupin interrupted. 

"It is my understanding that the boy can block the Imperius Curse rather well. At his age, that shows his capabilities," said Moody.

"I do not doubt his capabilities at all. His perfect Patronus proves that he is very talented. But even if Voldemort could use this connection against Harry," Lupin continued, "Harry would need a lot more training and his wand in hand in order to block something like that. As it is, I'm shocked he could hold off even one stunning spell with his wand in his pocket."

"But his wand wasn't in his pocket." Everyone turned to stare at Arthur Weasley. "It wasn't! I gave Harry's broom and wand to Fred during the run over here, and Fred wasn't even in the hospital wing until right before we all got there."

"Now I know everyone here has a rather inflated opinion about the boy's abilities, but this is just ridiculous," sneered Snape. Lupin put a warning hand on Sirius's arm, sensing his friend was about to lose his limited tolerance for Snape's obvious dislike of Harry.

"It may not be so ridiculous, Severus," corrected Dumbledore. "I didn't expect it to come so early, as Harry is only fifteen, or will be, but it seems his time has finally come."

"What are you talking about? What's happening to Harry?" asked Sirius.

"It has to do with why Voldemort wanted to kill Harry in the first place, when he was a baby." At this, both Lupin and Sirius started. 

"I thought he was after James and Lily," said Lupin.

"No, they died trying to save Harry. It was never mentioned because I thought Harry might feel responsible, if he knew the truth."

"What is the truth, Dumbledore? What would Voldemort want with Harry?"

"Harry is special," he answered.

"Albus, is this about the speculation that James was related to Godric Gryffindor?" asked McGonagall.

"Yes, Minerva, in part it is."

"So this is all a blood feud?" yelled Sirius. "Because Voldemort is the heir of Slytherin, he has some grudge against Harry?"

"No, Voldemort would not go through all of this trouble over an ancient grudge. It is true that Harry has some Gryffindor blood in him, but Godric has nothing to do with this situation. Harry has inherited his gift from Aglaia Gryffindor, Godric's grandmother. As you may remember from your history lessons with Professor Binns, Aglaia was the first witch in Britain and, as such, had some extraordinary powers, such as the ability to withstand several curses and poisons. It was foretold that James and Lily would have a son that would possess Aglaia's strengths. This is why Voldemort was after Harry. He knew that, with his parents being who they were, Harry's loyalties could never be turned."

"Foretold?" asked McGonagall.

"Yes, by Sibyl Trelawny."

"That old bat?" yelled McGonagall, who had never put much faith into her colleague's divination abilities.

"Minerva, this prediction is genuine. Her first ever, I suspect. Voldemort must know that Harry's potential is being realized more fully every day, as demonstrated by his performance during their last encounter. Remus, will you please look into what Sirius mentioned earlier, the possibility that Voldemort's and Harry's wands are making him vulnerable for mental attack? If that is the case, perhaps we can turn the tables against Voldemort. I also ask that you keep Harry in your house for the remainder of the summer, along with Sirius. Molly, if you wouldn't mind, could Harry spend his days at your home while Remus and Sirius are at work? In the meantime, I suggest everyone find a bed and go to sleep." 

As everyone made to go, Snape spoke up. "Headmaster, I am being called. I don't doubt that Voldemort knows Potter is here. What should I tell him?" As much as Sirius hated the man, he couldn't help but admire Snape's commitment to Dumbledore, and his bravery in facing Voldemort's temper on a regular basis. He did not envy Snape tonight, if indeed it was another failed attack against Harry on Voldemort's part. 

"Tell him what happened to Harry and how we woke him up. We thought it might be a mental attack from one of his vampire friends or that it was just a sign that he was nearby. Tell him how long we searched the castle for him. He might be amused about that, just as he'd love details of the pain Harry was experiencing. Then tell him that Harry is going home tomorrow. As far as I know, Voldemort has not been successful in finding Harry's home."

"What are we going to tell the Dursleys?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "And what about Harry's school things?"

"I'll have an answer to that in the morning. In the meantime, go to sleep. And Alistar, will you be so kind as to relieve Hagrid? You may feel free to go home, or stay if you'd prefer. Me, I have a warm glass of butterbeer waiting for me in my room."


	6. Six

Chapter Six

Harry woke in the morning with a severe headache. A quick glance around the hospital wing showed that everyone had gone, presumably to eat breakfast in the Great Hall. Making sure that Madam Pomfrey was not nearby, waiting to fuss over him, Harry snuck out of bed and made his way through the abandoned halls. Just as he was about to turn the corner, he heard footsteps approaching the infirmary from the opposite direction. He would have hurried towards the Great Hall, but the sound of their voices made him pause.

"Does it hurt much, Severus?" asked Professor McGonagall, and Harry noted the tinge of concern in her voice.

"Of course it hurts. The Dark Lord does not have a gentle hand when his plans are upset," Snape answered.

"No doubt Poppy will be able to fix that arm in a jiffy," mused Dumbledore. "And hopefully you won't be too late for breakfast. The house elves are so excited to have a few more people around during the holiday that they are going all out."

"Severus, what exactly disturbed Voldemort's plans?" This was Lupin.

"He didn't say the exact cause for the link between him and Potter being broken, but it was my impression that it happened when the boy's head hit the wall. And I'm almost positive that their wands have nothing to do with it, since Voldemort used a different wand when he did this to me. He must have acquired some magical artifact when he was overseas. Eastern Europe is full of dark talismans and such."

Harry could hear the doors to the hospital wing swing open and he continued on to breakfast, knowing that his professors would not be far behind.

"Morning, Harry!" called the team, minus Angelina and Cho, who had both gone home earlier that morning. Harry took his seat next to Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione leaned forward to talk to him in private. 

"You missed it," whispered Ron. "We ran into Snape in the entrance hall as he was rushing off to Dumbledore's office, and he had the sickest looking cut on his arm that I've ever seen." 

Hermione nodded in agreement. "It looked infected to me, which is surprising since he couldn't have had it very long."

"He never washes, though, does he? The slimy git." Hermione shot daggers at Ron, but otherwise ignored his comment.

"I've heard about it," answered Harry as he returned Ginny's smile and loaded his plate with eggs and sausages. "When I was leaving the hospital wing, Snape and the others were heading towards it. He got it from You-Know-Who sometime last night." Ron looked rather relieved that Harry hadn't said "Voldemort".

"Well, we figured that Snape was going to spy on him, didn't we?" asked Hermione, before turning her attention to Dumbledore, McGonagall and Lupin, who had just walked in. 

"Where's mum and dad?" whispered Ginny, but both Fred and George shrugged.

"Good morning all," said Dumbledore, conjuring three chairs for the end of the table. 

"How are you feeling, Harry?" asked Lupin. He was looking rather haggard, which was disturbing considering that it was not full moon.

"I'm fine," Harry answered, feeling much better after having gotten some food into his system. "Where's Sirius?"

"Mr. Black has gone on an errand for me. And Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are currently at your house, Harry, collecting your things," answered Dumbledore, helping himself to some kippers. 

"My things? Where am I going?" Harry asked, though not really caring where he ended up as long as it wasn't back on Privet Drive or with smelly Mrs. Figg or in Azkaban, even if the Dementors had all abandoned their posts a week after summer holiday began.

"You're going to be staying with me, Harry," said Lupin. "That is, if you don't mind."

"I'm living with you? Excellent! Wait, where do you live? No, it doesn't matter! A hole in the ground is better than the Dursleys' house." Harry couldn't contain his excitement. Remus Lupin was probably his favorite teacher ever at Hogwarts. Lupin laughed. 

"My house is a bit nicer than a hole in the ground, except one room, and that's beyond my control." Lupin must have been referring to whatever room he transformed in.

"How have you been doing?" Harry asked. He had not seen Lupin since Snape had let it slip that he was a werewolf. 

"I've got a year's supply of Wolfsbane left. Now all I worry about is gnawing on the furniture."

At that moment, Snape walked in, rubbing his arm but looking perfectly healthy. Harry noticed Snape sneer as he approached the Gryffindor table, either upset that they all weren't sitting at the Slytherin table or that the only empty seat was next to Ginny Weasley. She didn't seem too happy about that fact either as the Potions master sat down. 

"Well, Harry," continued Dumbledore. "Remus lives on the other side of Stoatshead Hill in Ottery St. Catchpole, so you'll be spending most of your days at the Weasley house. I only ask that you are back at Remus's by six, unless he expects you later."

"I bet the Dursleys were thrilled when you told them I'd be gone," Harry said, smiling at how thrilled he was to be gone.

"Actually, you won't be gone," said Professor McGonagall. "The headmaster will be taking Polyjuice Potion once the Weasleys return and then he will take your place at home." 

Ron nearly choked on his orange juice, and Hermione also reacted in her own special way. "But Polyjuice takes at least twenty-one days to make, since the lacewings need that long to stew," she said, before realizing that no one knew about her, Harry's and Ron's adventure with the stuff during their second year at school. "Or so I've read," she added, a little too hastily. Snape gave her a look of suspicion but decided that he was in no mood to harass the students after last night. 

"We've always got a spare vile of important potions lying about the castle," answered Dumbledore, that annoyingly _knowing_ twinkle in his eye. "All I need is a chunk of Harry's hair."

"But Professor, the Dursleys!" Harry yelled. "I know you can handle just about any dark wizard that comes your way, but my aunt and uncle and cousin are entirely different stories! Couldn't you find someone else to be me?" Harry would love to see Dumbledore lose his temper and turn Aunt Petunia into the horse she so nearly resembled, but he was more worried about his family's uncanny ability to offend people of magic. 

Dumbledore laughed. "I thank you for your concern, but everyone that I would trust for this job is currently engaged in other tasks."

"I don't understand why you feel this is necessary anyway," entered Snape, speaking so suddenly that Ginny was startled enough to drop her fork on the floor. "If You-Know-Who has the ability to attack Potter mentally, I wouldn't expect him to come after the boy at his house."

"Given the success of his last attempt to harm Harry, I'm not sure that he'll continue for long on that road. Besides, I've received some disturbing information this morning that makes me believe Voldemort may soon learn the location of Harry's home. Arabella Figg has disappeared."

Professor McGonagall made a strangling sound in her throat. "Not Arabella! What happened?"

"I've sent Sirius to find that out, Minerva," answered Dumbledore. "But you can see why I think it best that Harry not return to his aunt's and uncle's house, for now."

"I don't understand," said Harry. "What does that have to do with me?"

"You may remember a Mrs. Figg from your neighborhood? She is exceptionally fond of cats, if that rings a bell. She is your Secret-Keeper, Harry. That is why you have always been safe with your family. I don't believe Arabella would ever betray your location to Voldemort, but we must take precautions."

Harry couldn't believe it. Mrs. Figg? Who smelled of cabbage? A witch? Actually, it did make some sense. Once, when he was at her house, waiting for the Dursleys to return from a trip to the cinema, Mrs. Figg was showing Harry pictures of her cats and Harry could have sworn that Felix's tail had swished.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley returned to Hogwarts soon after breakfast was over, carrying Harry's school trunk and Hedwig's cage and complaining about having to stun Dudley twice, he was so fat. Harry hoped that they'd performed a memory charm on the Dursleys as well, since Dumbledore's stay there would be decidedly more painful if his Uncle Vernon remembered two wizards barging into his house.

"Did you leave some clothes there, Molly?" asked Dumbledore, who was preparing to cut of a lock of Harry's hair.

"Yes, a few. Though they certainly don't spoil the boy," answered Mrs. Weasley. Harry appreciated the contempt the Weasley family had for the Dursleys. 

"Professor Dumbledore, there's a loose floorboard in my old room where you can find some things that might be of help. Some food and books, in case they're in a good enough mood to let you back up there. And there should be some things under my cot in my cupboard under the stairs, in case they lock you up. I suppose we can hope that happens, since it'd mean you're doing a great job being me." All of the professors laughed, but Harry and his friends all knew that he wasn't joking. 

"Surely it can't be that bad?" asked Lupin, who had noticed the seriousness on Harry's face.

"I wish I could say it wasn't," Harry answered. He could hear Snape's evil laugh a few seats away from him.

"I suppose it's time," Dumbledore announced. 


	7. Seven

Chapter Seven

The potion, once one of Harry's hairs had been added, had turned the exact color of Harry's green eyes. Dumbledore drank the potion and, to Harry's amazement, it seemed to work instantly and painlessly. When Harry, Ron, and Hermione had taken it, it had felt like their skin was peeling off. Snape's lips curled in disgust, having another Harry Potter in the world. "Oh my," Dumbledore said in a muffled voice. "I forgot how short you children are." Dumbledore's wizard robes were draping over his face, since they were three sizes too big. "_Reducio_," he said, pointing at his robes and shrinking them to his new size. He also transfigured his half-moon spectacles into frames more resembling Harry's. 

Dumbledore tried fruitlessly to straighten his new hair, which was just as thick and unruly as Harry's. "Any advice?" he asked. Harry had never needed to give Dumbledore advice before, so he was quite amused.

"Lots. First off, no magic around them! That includes wearing robes and, more importantly, never saying any magic type words. Especially 'Hogwarts' and 'magic' and 'Muggle'. And my Aunt Petunia pretends that she never had a sister, so don't bring my parents up. What else? Oh, never criticize Dudley. Not that you would, but anyone here could tell you how tempting it is. Just try to avoid them as much as possible and don't bother being nice because they'll think you're after something. And if they say that Aunt Marge is coming for a visit, just run away."

Dumbledore, Lupin and McGonagall all looked quite taken aback. "Sir, just don't say I didn't warn you," said Harry. 

"Harry, I'd like you to wear your invisibility cloak whenever you're outdoors. We can never be sure about how many of our operatives are being trailed by Voldemort's servants. Besides that, the fewer members of the magical community that know your whereabouts, the better." 

Harry wished that it wasn't such common knowledge that he owned an Invisibility Cloak, but he listened to Dumbledore and put it on as he, Lupin, Hermione and the Weasleys made their way outside towards the boundaries of Hogwarts' grounds. It was very strange for Harry to see himself walking ahead of him. It was even stranger knowing that the boy ahead of him was Professor Dumbledore. Once they were past the school, Dumbledore apparated to Harry's house. "Well, Harry, you're going to go back with Arthur and Molly to their house while I do some things for Dumbledore," said Lupin.

"Are we going to see Sirius anytime soon?" Harry asked. He had hardly had the chance to talk to his godfather.

"Yes, he's going to be staying with us once he gets back from his mission. I'd expect him to return by tomorrow night. Whenever a wizard disappears these days, we either find the physical evidence very soon or never."

It was a quiet ride back to the Burrow. Harry was dying to speak to Ron and Hermione in private. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the rest of the Weasleys' company, but he had always been much more open with his two best friends, whether talking about Voldemort's plan or his trials back home. Harry was quite happy when Hermione accepted Mrs. Weasley's invitation to stay for a few days. Once they reached the Burrow, the three of them retreated to Ron's room. 

"This is brilliant!" said Ron, who had obviously been just as anxious as Harry to talk about last night's events. "Dumbledore being you, I mean. I wonder if those nasty Muggles are catching on yet."

"I wonder if Dumbledore has been locked up yet," said Harry, as he watched the Chudley Cannons fly through the posters on the walls.

"I'm just hoping that he'll blow up at least one person in your family," said Ron.

"Aren't either of you worried at all? I mean, it must be pretty life-threatening if Dumbledore saw a need to personally use the Polyjuice Potion," joined in Hermione. Harry had been thinking the same thing, so he was glad to have Hermione around to say it.

"I've just thought of something that worries me a bit more. You know, Harry, Dumbledore is going to know what you look like naked." With that, both Hermione and Harry started bludgeoning Ron with his pillows, and all three of them broke into a fit of laughter.

***************************************************************************

Dumbledore appeared behind the house of Number Four, Privet Drive. He had been at this place once before, fourteen years ago when he left Harry on the doorstep. Nobody had wanted the famous Harry Potter to live with a bunch of ignorant Muggles, but Dumbledore was sure they couldn't be that bad. Remembering that he was still in robes, Dumbledore transfigured them into jeans and a T-shirt and then walked around to the front door. Stopping himself from knocking on the door, he pulled on the handle. A rather large boy was sitting on the sofa, his attention focused on a television set. "Dad, he's back!" Dudley yelled, shooting Dumbledore a hateful glance.

A large, beefy man came down the stairs. "Back are you?" he asked.

"Er…yes," Dumbledore answered, trying to mimic Harry's halting style of speaking.

"You said two weeks. It's only been ten days," Vernon Dursley continued, visibly upset that Harry had come back earlier than expected.

"My friends had some other plans today so I decided to come back early," Dumbledore answered.

"No doubt they got sick of you and chucked you out," Vernon sneered. "Well, as long as you're here, go do your chores."

"Right. Er…what were they again?"

"Trim the hedges, mow the lawn, and clean the toilets."

"And I can't use magic?" Dumbledore hadn't taken Harry's advice to heart, but as Mr. Dursley turned a deep purple, he knew he was in for some trouble.

"How many times have I told you not to speak of your _abnormality_ in this house?" Mr. Dursley bellowed. "Go. Cupboard. Now." Dumbledore obviously hesitated a second too long, for Mr. Dursley rushed up to him, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and nearly threw him into the cupboard under the stairs.

"Dear me."


	8. Eight

Chapter Eight

Harry, Ron and Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon catching up and fooling around with Ginny and the twins. They had been so busy earlier, preparing for the match, that they hadn't had any real time to socialize. 

"Percy has been insufferable, ever since Crouch died. Had a big row with Dad when he told him about You-Know-Who's return and what a stupid git Fudge turned out to be, like the Minister of Magic could do no wrong. Dad got so mad, he nearly tossed Percy out, but Mum soothed things over, much to everyone's disappointment. I don't think Percy's been much of a help with the whole thing, but at least he doesn't swoon over Fudge anymore. He's more mad that he didn't get to replace Crouch."

Just as Ron finished talking, Harry stumbled across a new Weasley invention, The Lizard Pop. Ginny managed to catch Harry, who had turned into a newt, just before Errol, the Weasley's owl, spotted him as an early supper dish. Luckily Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were too busy in the kitchen talking to Lupin, who had arrived for dinner, to notice. Mrs. Weasley was far from fond of her sons' mischievous hobby. 

"Have you two been able to see each other at all this summer?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione, after turning back into a human.

Suddenly Ron's ears went all red. "Well…I…"

"How about every other day?" asked Fred.

"Yeah, they're dating. Ickle Ronnikins has a girlfwend," teased George, who had just beat Harry at a game of Exploding Snaps.

"Shut up," growled Ron, glancing nervously at Harry. 

Harry thought that this was great. He had been a little worried about the possibility of being left out if Ron and Hermione had started dating, but the possibility that the two would fight a bit less had won him over. Still, he couldn't resist teasing the two. Turning to Hermione, he started in at her. 

"I can't believe you're dating this prat! Honestly, Hermione, what are you thinking?" he teased. Harry watched as both of their faces went from beet red to the color of porridge before he broke into a wide grin, sure that if he held out any longer, they'd either break into tears or tell him off severely.

"Oh, that's not funny!" cried Hermione. She scowled when she saw the smile on Ron's face. He had obviously appreciated the joke. "Ron, you know how worried we've both been about his reaction and…"

"I am here, you know, "said Harry. "And why were you so concerned that I'd be upset? No offense, Hermione, but you're not my type." 

Ron's ears turned a deeper shade of red, if that was possible. "And why not? There's nothing wrong with her. Seriously wrong, anyway."

Harry stifled a laugh as Hermione muttered "How romantic," under her breath.

"No, there's nothing seriously wrong with Hermione. I just like my love interests to be a bit less…parental." Hermione just glared at him.

"You make it sound like you have a lot of experience in that field, young Harry. Been a busy summer?" Lupin had slipped into the room unnoticed and Harry, Ron and Hermione all blushed. 

"Yeah, Harry, been driving the ladies of Privet Drive wild?" Fred poked Harry hard in the rib cage, and George and Ginny just looked on, Ginny particularly keen on hearing his answer. Fortunately, Mrs. Weasley called them to the table just in time for Harry to avoid the embarrassment of spilling the details of his decidedly inactive love life.

They had a fantastic meal of Cornish hens on treacle tart, Lupin catching Harry and the rest up on his life since leaving Hogwarts. "I went to Austria, where there are many werewolves roaming about the forests, causing problems for the Muggles in the surrounding villages. The Austrian Ministry hired me to bring some order to the group. That's how I got this," he said, pointing to his mangled left ear, which Harry hadn't noticed before. It looked like it had a bite taken out of it. Seeing Harry's face of alarm, he quickly added, "It's fine now. Didn't really hurt, if you can believe it. And the other guy came out looking a lot worse." 

"Excellent," said Fred and George. 

Hermione looked horrified. "Couldn't you have gotten it fixed up?" she asked.

"Not many decent mediwizards in that neck of the woods, I'm afraid. I'll probably get it taken cared of this week. Might as well not give people another reason to dislike me."

"I don't know," said Harry. "It gives you some character. Then again, I could see how you'd have a hard time explaining it."

"Anyway," continued Lupin, "after I finished that job, I was contacted by Ludo Bagman to help with the Triwizard Tournament. I had to help Hagrid wrangle up some creatures for your last task in the maze."

"Why didn't you stay to watch?" Ron asked through a mouthful of rolls. Hermione tutted at his table manners.

"I did! Sirius asked me to come and hold his leash so he wouldn't look conspicuous. But once the trouble started, Dumbledore sent me to keep an eye on Karkaroff. I lost track of him though. Since then, I've been working with Dumbledore." Harry knew that Lupin would never tell him what he'd been doing for the headmaster, so he didn't bother asking.

After they were finished eating, Lupin retired to the living room with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Harry and Hermione followed Ron back up to his room, where they got into another vicious pillow fight due to Harry's teasing.

"Seriously, though," Harry continued, once the air had been cleared of goose feathers. "I wonder what they're saying downstairs." It had been nearly an hour since they ate, and Lupin and the Weasley's were still talking, sometimes loudly enough that it echoed up to Ron's room. 

"Well, let's go have a listen," said Hermione, and both Ron and Harry looked at her in shock. "Well, you want to know what's going on, don't you?" she asked.

"You've been hanging around Ron way too much," answered Harry, but he was impressed by her eagerness to do something improper. 

"We could amplify their voices with the Sonorous Charm," suggested Ron.

Harry shook his head. "No, we don't want everyone to hear what they're saying. Let's just do it the old-fashioned way. Get a bit closer and hide."

"Well, we could go to the pantry right next to the living room and listen through the vent. Only it'd look a bit odd if they found us in there."

"You could just say you were snogging," teased Harry.

"Yeah, and you were just so desperate for it, you had to come and watch," scowled Ron.

Hermione just ignored them. "Isn't there anywhere less conspicuous than that?"

"Why don't we just fly up to the roof and listen through the chimney?" suggested Harry.

Trying to fit the Invisibility Cloak over himself and the broom was a bit tricky, but soon Harry led Hermione and Ron up to the roof, landing as softly as they could next to the chimney and straining to hear the voices from below.

"I think Dumbledore should come back. If You-Know-Who is really back in Britain so soon, Dumbledore can't be bothered with this experiment. He ought to come back to our community and protect Harry from here." This was Mr. Weasley.

"If Voldemort has a mind to kill Harry, it will not matter where he is. As much as I'd feel safer knowing Dumbledore is close by and in his own body, I feel it is wise for him to wait at Harry's house a bit longer and hope that the Death Eaters come to him." Lupin sounded very unsure of himself.

"Is it wise to assume You-Know-Who is even after Harry at this time?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "Maybe last night was just a one time thing, or something just for fun. I know that Harry's high on You-Know-Who's death list, but surely there are more pressing things for him to be attending to at this stage of his return?"

"I wish I could agree with you, Molly," answered Lupin. "But I believe that the only reason Voldemort hasn't begun terrorizing the streets of England yet is that his reputation was weakened by his failed attempt to kill Harry in the cemetery. He is a cunning wizard and knows that nothing will get done without the ability to drive fear into the hearts of every Death Eater. And he has already realized why he couldn't kill Harry. With his new wand, Harry could not stand against him again, no matter how powerful the boy is. Besides that, Arabella's disappearance is much to suspicious for it to be coincidence."

"Is Dumbledore prepared to fight the Dark Lord and all his forces alone?" asked Mr. Weasley. "That is what you are suggesting, Remus. If You-Know-Who tries to abduct or kill Harry at his home, only Dumbledore will be there to fight. I do not doubt his strength, but do you think it's wise?"

"We will think of a way to help. Arabella has only just disappeared, so we should have another day at the very least. In the meantime, keep your eyes and ears open and help me look after Harry. If I feel it necessary, I will move him to a safer place and use Sirius as a Secret-Keeper."

"Of course," said Mr. Weasley. "Good night, Remus."

"We'll see you tomorrow night for dinner," added Mrs. Weasley. Would you like me to bring anything?"

"No, thank you Molly. Goodnight."


	9. Nine

Chapter Nine

Harry, Ron and Hermione hurried back into the house and, soon after, Harry put his cloak back on and walked with Lupin in silence to his house. Lupin fixed them both a cup of tea, noticing that Harry had taken great interest in the fireplace.

"You heard something at the Weasleys', didn't you Harry?" he asked. Harry tried to look as innocent and ignorant as he could, but dropped the act when he noticed that Lupin wasn't upset.

"As much as I love being miles away from the Dursleys, I think this is stupid. I should just go back."

"Out of the question," Lupin answered, and Harry guiltily tried to hide his relief, but he wasn't about to let the matter lay. 

"But Dumbledore can't fight Voldemort on his own! It's too risky. If he should fail, no one will be able to stop Voldemort's return to power!" Feeling Lupin's stare upon him, Harry mumbled the last part of his speech. "I'm not worth it."

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. There is no limit to the worth of a human life. And trust me, you'd be missed."

"Well, why doesn't someone else take the Polyjuice Potion too, turn in to one of the Dursleys, as unpleasant as that does sound?"

"Can't. The Ministry would have a field day with that. They take the Muggle Protection Act very seriously, and I doubt that Arthur's reputation would skyrocket if that got out."

"Well, why don't we just move the whole family to safety? Tell Voldemort they've gone on holiday, and then we could keep them at Hogwarts until we think of something better."

"The whole point of this is to catch some of the people after you, Harry. But I agree, we all have our reservations about the situation. Let's just keep things how they are until we hear the news from Sirius and Dumbledore."

"Maybe I'll just cross my fingers for another mental attack. Then we'll know it won't matter where I am."

"We're working on that, Harry. Why don't you just go to bed? Sirius may even be here by morning."

With that, Harry went off to Lupin's guestroom, hoping that Professor Dumbledore was having a better time of being Harry Potter than he was at the moment.

******************************************************************************************

It was morning at Number Four, Privet Drive, and the Dursley family was sitting around the kitchen table, unaware that they had the world's most powerful wizard passing them the bacon.

"Get the mail, boy," barked Vernon Dursley.

"It's right in front of you," answered Dumbledore, making this the fifty-seventh mental tally of rudeness on Mr. Dursley's part. He had decided that, for every cruel or callous or nasty remark the Dursleys threw at Harry, a point would go to the Gryffindor House. They'd have the house cup by mid-afternoon.

"How did it get here so quick?"

"I'm just quick I suppose."

"Dudders, see if he's quick."

With that, Dudley began chasing Dumbledore through the Dursley house with his Smelting stick. This is how his mornings had been ever since he assumed Harry's identity three days ago. He had received communication saying that Sirius was still following leads on Arabella's disappearance and that Harry was doing fine with Remus and the Weasley family. Meanwhile, Mr. Dursley had made him clean the house, serve Dudley breakfast, give up his dessert to Dudley, tend to Mrs. Dursley's garden, along with countless other meaningless chores. Mrs. Dursley just acted as if Harry, or Dumbledore-Harry, was never born, which was just fine by him. And Dudley was either beating him senseless or else taunting him for his lack of friends and parents. Dumbledore had a feeling that Harry wouldn't stand for Dudley pushing him around, but it was hard for Dumbledore to keep an eye on things if he was locked in the cupboard for sticking up for himself.

"Harry deserves Order of Merlin just for putting up with these people," Dumbledore muttered to himself as he picked his glasses up off the floor and inspected the damage done by the Smelting stick. It would be a tolerable situation if there had been any word on an attempt to harm Harry, but Arabella was still missing and the only change came when Voldemort was spotted in Northern Wales. Dumbledore had entered this mission expecting a confrontation with Voldemort, but was beginning to believe that the presence of some trained Aurors would be wise in just taking care of the Muggles! Perhaps, a few years ago, Dumbledore would have been confident of his victory against any other wizard in the world, but now he was nearly 160, hardly a young man. At that moment, something Vernon Dursley said distracted him.

"Boy, get yourself cleaned up. We're going out."

"Where are we going?" he asked. Mrs. Figg, before she had disappeared, had told him that Harry rarely went anywhere with his family.

"That blasted Prune woman has gone stray (probably chasing after one of those damned cats) so we're stuck with you."

"And you better not ruin my Dudleykin's birthday celebration!" broke in Mrs. Dursley. It was the first time she had spoken to Dumbledore in the past day and a half, something that he was most thankful for.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he muttered, marveling at how quickly he had adopted Harry's sarcasm. Even being in the company of Severus Snape for several years had not had such an effect on his tolerance as staying with these people had.

"We're going to the cinema, so here are the rules!" spat Vernon Dursley, staring at Dumbledore with his beady eyes and rutabaga face. "You sit a full row away from us. Don't even bother asking for candy or a drink, because it will never happen. And no funny stuff! I catch you so much as looking at us funny and it'll be back to the cupboard before you can blink. Now go fix that hair of yours and be quick about it." 

Despite being wary of spending an afternoon out with the Dursleys and Piers Polkiss, who in truth hadn't be so terrible to Dumbledore and instead kept talking about the "snake incident", Dumbledore couldn't help but be excited to go to his first Muggle movie theatre. Besides, it had to better than sitting around the house all day, trying to avoid Dudley Dursley and his swoons over his new scooter, DVD player, IMac, and forty other presents. Dumbledore was a bit disappointed in not being able to try some candy, but Harry had some chocolate frogs stashed away in his cupboard and Dumbledore was sure he wouldn't mind if he took a few.

The Dursleys, Piers and Dumbledore all piled into Mr. Dursley's new company car, which the neighbors were very impressed with, thank you very much, and soon they were off to London for lunch and a show. Dumbledore tried hard to focus on anything stationary, as he had never quite gotten used to travelling by automobile. At the restaurant, one of the waitresses looked Dumbledore up and down and brought him out a free lunch (Mr. Dursley, when the orders had been taking, had looked pointedly at Dumbledore and said "He'll just have a water."). Upon the arrival of an exquisitely prepared club sandwich and a double portion of chips, Vernon and Dudley Dursley nearly exploded.

"Excuse me, but he didn't order anything!" warned Mr. Dursley, surveying the plate before Dumbledore as if assessing the cost.

"Don't worry, it's on the house," smiled the girl. Dumbledore noticed her eyes travel up to where Harry's scar would be and realized that he remembered the young woman from the 1992 class of Hogwarts…a Hufflepuff if memory served.

"Excuse me?" asked Mr. Dursley, obvious confused as to what was going on.

"Yeah, it's MY birthday!" whined Dudley. "And he's got more chips than I do!"

After hesitating a bit to come up with a convincing lie, she simply said that anyone who bought four meals got the fifth one free of charge. Giving Dumbledore a small smile and wink, she returned to the kitchens to fix Dudley his dessert, since he had inhaled his lunch between whines. Ignoring the daggers coming from Mr. Dursley, Dumbledore enjoyed his first real meal in days and busied himself with studying the posters on the wall, wondering if these "Beatles" knew they had spelt the name wrong.

Soon the group was sitting in a darkened theater, watching a rather intriguing but disgusting film about a man eating another man's brain. During the more gruesome scenes, Dumbledore's eyes danced across the room, noting where the sounds and the picture were coming from. He had always been disappointed that the magical community had neglected pursuits in the performing arts, what with more pressing matters on hand these days. Perhaps, once the struggle against Voldemort was over, he could persuade the school governors to provide funding for some kind of art program at Hogwarts. He smiled as he pictured Severus Snape trying to teach Neville Longbottom the art of piano playing. Just then, the screen flickered a rather disturbing picture of a man-eating hog that returned Dumbledore's mind to more serious matters.

It was nearly nightfall when the Dursleys began their journey back to Privet Drive, having just dropped Piers off at his home across town. Dudley was rehashing every bloody detail of the movie, taking delight in the queasy moans coming from Mrs. Dursley, who obviously preferred more sensible and romantic films. Dudley was in the midst of making a particularly nauseating sound effect when he suddenly let out a squeak of fear and covered his eyes. Mr. Dursley braked the car to a halt, screamed "What the bloody hell is that?" and rounded on Dumbledore so fast that he was afraid he was about to be smacked. Then Dumbledore saw what had caused the commotion. There, hovering above Number Four Privet Drive, was the Dark Mark.

"Everybody stay where they are," he said very calmly and slowly, as he made to open the car door.

"Where do you think you are going, boy?" screamed Mr. Dursley. Mrs. Dursley was too busy surveying the neighbors' houses, making sure that nobody was seeing this monstrous green projection above her house to pay Dumbledore any mind.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, hadn't the patience to deal with Harry's uncle. "See that mark there? That is a very bad sign. And it is possible that the very bad people who leave these very bad signs are waiting for us in the house. So you lot just stay put and you may live to yell at me later for this." With that, Dumbledore made himself invisible and left the car. 


	10. Ten

****

Author's Note: This bit drags some, but it needed to be done. In case anyone out there has too high an opinion of me, JKR owns every proper noun in this story, and some of the improper ones as well. Also, big thanks to those who reviewed. Now you just need to start up a lil fan club and start mailing me some membership fees so I can afford a less evil computer…whine whine whine, that's enough o that fer now

Chapter Ten

Harry had been blissful the past few days. It was wonderful to be around Professor Lupin again and the werewolf had become as good a friend as Sirius was. Harry was, of course, still worried about the entire situation, about Dumbledore's and Sirius's absences, but spending days with his friends and his real family, when he should have been suffering at the hands of the Dursleys, was a welcomed release. He had also been free from any other mental attacks from Voldemort, which certainly enhanced his good mood. But he returned from a day at the Weasleys' to the sound of shouting from the living room of Remus's home. Being as discrete as possible, he made his way down the hall, walking in on a bizarre sight: the heads of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Snape, McGonagall and Sirius, all floating in Lupin's fireplace in a kind of wizard conference call.

"I haven't been able to find Arabella. I think we should just assume that we've lost her and call Dumbledore back immediately. This has gone on long enough." The sight of his godfather worried Harry. Sirius looked so drawn and tired, much to weakened for a man who had only been gone less than a week.

Lupin must have noticed this too. "Sirius, come on home. You look wretched.

Sirius then stepped through the fireplace, shaking the soot out of his hair in a canine manner before collapsing onto the couch closest to the fire and turning his attention to the ongoing conversation.

"How has Potter been?" Snape was asking, shocking Harry with his apparent concern, or at least curiosity, with the state of his well being.

"He hasn't had any attacks, right Remus?" answered Mrs. Weasley. "He should be there any minute at any rate."

"I'm here now, actually," broke in Harry, finally feeling too guilty to listen in any further. He walked into the living room and sat himself opposite of Sirius, who brightened significantly at the arrival of his godson.

"Have you found anything more about how Voldemort was able to attack Harry?" asked Lupin. 

Snape shot Harry a look, obviously not keen on including him in the conversation, but continued just the same. "I may have an idea, something was mentioned by McNair, but I'd like to read up on it more before I commit to it. Right now, all I know is that Voldemort is back in Britain and that he hasn't made a presence at any meetings since the initial attack. Perhaps it took more out of him than he let on, or perhaps he's preparing for something else. Besides that, there's a whole new list of Death Eaters recruited two nights ago that might interest you. But perhaps that should wait until we are in more limited company," he concluded, again flashing a sneer in Harry's direction.

"Perhaps. My real concern now is this situation with Harry and Dumbledore," broke in Professor McGonagall, sounding much to preoccupied to deal with an argument between Severus and Sirius, which was almost inevitable whenever Harry was brought into the conversation. 

All eyes turned towards Remus Lupin, who had taken on some authority in Dumbledore's absence. Harry couldn't believe that Snape was actually taking advice from his old enemy, but never the less, no one else quite knew what to do. After a long moment, Lupin glanced at Harry and then turned back towards the fire. "Harry says we should move the entire family to safety until we can think of a better plan. Minerva, will you see to added security around the school? I'm going to Harry's house with a portkey to collect them. Have Hagrid meet us at Hogsmeade in an hour. If they're awake, I'm sure he could manage them, and if I have to stun them, he can help me get them to Hogwarts."

Suddenly, Dumbledore's head joined the others in the fireplace. "No need for all that. Everyone meet at Hogwarts immediately. We'll be there shortly and we'll all discuss what to do next."

Moments later, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Professors Snape and McGonagall, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Hagrid, Fred, George, Ginny, Ron and Harry were all in the Great Hall, nervously awaiting the arrival of Dumbledore and whatever news he had. Mrs. Weasley had been reluctant to leave her children and her houseguest Hermione alone at The Burrow, something that Harry was rather grateful for. With all of the adults whispering off in the corner, Harry was glad to have some company.

"What's going on, Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry smile as he noticed Ron grab hold of her hand in a comforting manner.

"I'm not sure. Dumbledore looked very upset though. Either something's happened to one of the Dursleys or they've heard about Mrs. Figg."

"At least we know Professor Dumbledore is alright," said Ginny. Harry hadn't seen her look so scared since his second year, down in the Chamber of Secrets. For some reason, looking at her reminded him of the Yule Ball and watching her dance with Neville. Then a picture of Cho and Cedric dancing together came into his mind and he remembered why they were all there and who they were all worrying about.

"You said it was Dumbledore's face, right?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, why?"

"I was just wondering if the Polyjuice wore off or if he had some kind of antidote."

"Leave it to you to think about something like that at a time like this," teased Ron. Harry noticed that more and more lately Ron had found Hermione's relentless intellectual curiosity less annoying and more…adorable.

"Enough of that, you two!" scolded Fred, after watching Ron and Hermione tickle each other for what seemed like an eternity. "Honestly, Harry, count yourself lucky that you didn't have to witness this smut all summer."

Harry was about to reply when a horrifying sight met his eyes. Dumbledore had just walked in, followed by the Dursleys, who looked as if they were about to jump out of their skins for fear. Now, Harry _had_ suggested this temporary solution, but actually seeing it materialize was a bit more difficult to swallow. After all, Hogwarts was something of a sacred place for Harry, and the thought of that fat twit Dudley ordering the house elves about for more food and Mr. Dursley bellowing insults at his friends and Mrs. Dursley reacting God knows how just sickened Harry to no end.

Mr. Dursley was so preoccupied sizing up his surroundings that he didn't even notice Harry until he was right next to him, at which point he turned a brilliant red. "Why you!" he growled, and then boxed Harry hard about the ears, catching him off balance and sending him straight towards the hard stone floors. Of course, it was the wrong sort of environment for this type of behavior, as Mr. Dursley soon found out. Almost instantly, Sirius, Lupin, Hermione and all of the Weasleys present had drawn their wands and shot a varied array of curses at him, while Snape and McGonagall focused their energy on trying to hold Hagrid back and Dumbledore bent down to help Harry to his feet. When the magic had cleared the air, Vernon Dursley looked like an octopus with a hangover and a bad case of acne. Seeing her husband in such a state, Mrs. Dursley let out a small scream before fainting dead away, and Dudley made and about face and started running, smacking right into a door and knocking himself out cold.

"Well, that takes care of that particular predicament for the moment," said Dumbledore, surveying the damage. "Are you alright, Harry?"

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, more embarrassed than anything.

"Then will you please come with me to my office, along with my staff. Children, please see that the Dursleys make it to the hospital wing. Of course, if you feel the need to practice any other relatively harmless curses in the name of academic advancement, I'll have no objections."

With that, Harry left Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins and followed Dumbledore with the rest to his office. Once everyone was seated and Sirius examined Harry's bruise and got a few profanities about Vernon Dursley off his chest, Dumbledore explained what he had found earlier that evening.

"Arabella Figg is dead. When we had returned from an afternoon out, the Dark Mark was hovering above the house. There were no Death Eaters present, only Arabella's body. As hard as it is for me to believe, she must have broken and given Voldemort the location of Harry's residence. Even though there are other safety measures in place, Harry, when in the presence of your family, I think most of us will agree that leaving you alone with them is not the best idea at this time."

"At any time, I'd say," broke in Lupin, who looked nearly as angry as Sirius at the mention of Harry's family.

"Yes, well, we may have to consider alternate housing options for next summer. Be that as it may, we have two months until the start of term and the Dursley's will have to be moved. In the meantime, I'm afraid they'll have to stay here with Harry. Or, rather, relatively close to Harry. We can house them across the castle from you, as long as they're in the same building you will have the protection they come with. Minerva, will you and Molly please contact Moody and find a new home for the Dursleys? Preferably in the same neighborhood, as to not upset them too much, as tempting as that does sound. I've already taken care of the memories of their neighbors. Now they just need a new location and a new secret keeper." McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley both nodded reluctantly, not really wanting to help Vernon Dursley out in any way.

"Arthur, I'll need you to take that trip to America now, and bring in those people you trust from their ministry. Arabella is only the first from our side to disappear and she will not be the last. Your children and Miss Granger can stay here with Harry during your absence."

"Now, Severus, what have you found out?"

"McNair mentioned something last night, the Blood Stone. I've finally found a reference to it in the library. There has never been a confirmation of its existence, but it is said to have been built by Third Century Eastern European vampires, a kind of magnifying lens for their mental abilities. Maybe Lupin knows more about this," Snape concluded, being unusually accepting of Lupin's expertise.

"All I know is that such a stone would be very useful. A vampire is very drained when it must resort to hypnosis or mental attack in order to subdue its prey. There are several documented cases in which a vampire has been so exhausted by this technique that they have fallen asleep, only to be burned alive once the sun rises. This Blood Stone, depending on how it is used, could really halve a vampire's hunting time." Lupin did not look happy about what he just said, nor did anyone else in the room.

Dumbledore just sighed. "Anything else to add, Severus?"

"There has been a string of new recruits, but I think it best if we discuss this later."

"Why? Are there many Hogwarts students on the list?" When Snape didn't answer, Dumbledore sighed again. No matter how hard he and his staff tried to instill a moral background into the student curriculum, it was of no use. Very few professors could turn the heart of a born and raised Death Eater. Even Dumbledore hadn't succeeded in showing Tom Riddle the light.

"Severus, just go ahead. I'm sure there will be few surprises on that list, and these students will not be staying at Hogwarts for long."

"Albus, you can't just expel them with no proof!" scolded Professor McGonagall, looking decidedly dejected that this was the case. Professor Snape couldn't very well attest to the loyalties of these young Death Eaters; it would expose him.

"But there is proof!" broke in Snape. "Voldemort is still fond of burning the Dark Mark into the forearm of his supporters."

"How can we just go up and say, 'Excuse me, Malfoy, can I see your arm to see just how evil you are'?" Lupin started, forgetting for a moment that Harry was sitting behind him. Harry continued. "I mean, wouldn't it be obvious that we knew who to approach about it? Professor Snape could get himself killed." Ron probably would have said that last sentence a bit more enthusiastically, but Harry, despite his general dislike for the slimy git, could not ignore the fact that Snape was putting his life on the line for their cause.

"Very touching sentiment Potter, but it won't earn you any points at the moment," sneered Snape. Harry could have sworn he heard a growl from Sirius's corner of the room (well, if there could be "corners" in a round office).

Lupin, as usual, ignored the barbed comments that so frequently came from the mouth of Severus Snape. "We can do a random inspection, say it's for the safety of the students. We'll just make sure it's not so random."

Hagrid nodded at Lupin's suggestion. "Just throw in a few Gryffindors an' nobody could say you was singling them snakes out."

"And what makes you think that most of these new recruits are Slytherin?" scowled Snape. Hagrid just blushed and clamed up.

"Well…they are, but it's possible," conceded Snape, shocking Harry yet again when he let out a soft laugh.

"Just give me names, Severus, and we'll go from there."

Harry wasn't very surprised to hear Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Flint, but there were a few names on the list that did shock him. Malcolm Baddock was a Slytherin second year starting in September. Harry didn't think Voldemort would use someone so young. And there were a few students outside the Slytherin house as well. Susan Bones from Hufflepuff and Mandy Brocklehurst from Ravenclaw were both in the same year as Harry and had always been perfectly friendly with him. At least, Harry thought to himself, there aren't any Gryffindors.

After Snape finished reading off his list, McGonagall, Sirius, Lupin and Dumbledore all sat silent for a few minutes, shaking their heads and wondering if these kids had any idea about what they were getting into. "Well," Dumbledore said, "Harry, would you please stay and talk with me for a moment. The rest of you can bunker down in Hogwarts tonight, everything can wait until morning. Oh, and Severus? If you are called, all you know is that Harry is with his family and that you can only assume that they are either in Little Whinging or out on a summer holiday." With that, and a whisper from Sirius and Lupin that they would wait up in the Gryffindor common room, they all left Harry and Dumbledore to talk alone.

After an uncomfortable minute in which Dumbledore stared Harry down with his sparkling, and very sad, blue eyes, the headmaster broke his silence.

"Harry, I knew that your life with your aunt, uncle and cousin had not been an easy one. But does what happened in the hall just now happen often?"

"No, sir, not like that. I suppose that Uncle Vernon just had enough today." Harry could truly only remember a few minor scrapes with his uncle. He normally just tried to keep his distance.

"Well, at least that's a relief. Honestly, that cupboard you live in his horrible! And I owe you about a dozen chocolate frogs. But I saved you these," he said, passing Harry a hand full of wizard cards.

"Wow, thanks," Harry blushed, suddenly feeling very odd at the professor having lived his life for a few days. He felt a strong urge to apologize for it. "Will Sirius be staying here as well? Or does he have some things to attend to?"

"No, I think his place is with you, for now. Remus will be asked to stay on grounds as well, in case you fall prey to any more mental attacks. He was going to move into the staff quarters once term started as it is. In the meantime, I'll set your family up in the Slytherin rooms. Perhaps some cold air and the company of Professor Snape will do them some good," Dumbledore chuckled. Harry laughed, picturing Dudley whine about Snape and his greasy hair. 

"I'm not sure that Professor Snape deserves such a harsh punishment," Harry laughed, and then wished Dumbledore a good night.

Harry wanted nothing more than to join all of his friends in the Gryffindor common room, but a nagging sense of guilt led him to the hospital wing.

"You again, eh? What is it this time? You're not dying, are you?" Madam Pomfrey was never the cheeriest of witches.

"No, I'm here to see to them," Harry mumbled, pointing to where the Dursleys were encamped on the furthest cot from the mediwizard. 

Madam Pomfrey gave a disdainful snort. "Professor Dumbledore has just sent word for me to see them to the Hufflepuff House, and I was going to just hand them off to the Fat Friar, but seeing as you're here, would you mind taking them off my hands?" Harry nodded and made his way over to his family, trying his best not to notice the anger flushing through Mr. Dursley's face.

"Don't you come any closer, boy" he breathed, and Harry couldn't tell if his uncle was more afraid or angry.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Nobody here is going to hurt you," Harry said, letting on his disappointment.

"Yeah, and that's how I ended up with tentacles a few minutes ago!"

"Well, that's your own bloody fault. These people here are my friends and they don't have any quarrels with sticking up for me."

"We just want to go home, and don't think for one minute that you're welcome there!" screamed Aunt Petunia, a little more brave now that there weren't a handful of wizards about.

"Well, you can't," sneered Harry, seeing how easy it must be for Snape. "Listen to me, you all have to stay here. I don't know how long it will take, but they are finding you a new house, somewhere in Little Whinging but safer, and until then, you're stuck here. Unless you want to take your chances out there and be hunted down by the most evil wizard alive." Dudley paled considerably.

"I am not staying another minute with you ABNORMAL people!" shouted Uncle Vernon, getting up to leave. As much as Harry disliked his uncle, he wasn't about to let him walk out that door.

"Fine, have it your way. We'll just reinstate the neighbors' memories and let the word spread that you had a giant skull with a snake hanging out of it flying above your house. I'm sure that'll get you invited to all sorts of dinner parties." Seeing that his uncle had stopped in his tracks, Harry went towards the door, motioning them to follow. After a five minute walk through the castle, Harry showed them into the Hufflepuff common room, explaining that the password to get past the painting was "Helga". Mrs. Dursley had been making funny squeaking noises every time they passed something magical, so Harry didn't bother to explain the concept of house elves. "Now just stay here until morning. You shouldn't run into anybody, unless it's the Fat Friar. He's harmless. I've already pointed out the Great Hall, but I can come and get you for breakfast if you'd prefer." Harry had no idea why he was being polite to the Dursleys. _Maybe something got knocked loose in that mental attack._ Mr. Dursley just grunted and made his way to one of the dorm rooms, leaving Harry to escort himself back to the Gryffindor common room.

"Oh, dear, how are you feeling?" cooed the Fat Lady.

"I'm fine, thanks, just a slight head ache," Harry admitted, rubbing the spot where his head had hit the floor.

"Well, they're all up and waiting for you inside. The password is 'oddment tweak', by the way."

Once inside the common room, Harry was surrounded by all of his favorite people, and he spent a good twenty minutes listening to them all throw every curse word at the Dursleys that they could imagine, Mrs. Weasley coming up with some very imaginative ones.

"That bloody fat oaf of a git, I'll drag him through the Forbidden Forrest by his entrails if he so much as looks at you funny!" bellowed Sirius.

"And I'll be the one to rip out his entrails," joined in Lupin.

"I'll take a leaf out of Harry's book and blow that evil horse woman up so full of hot air that she'll float all the way to Venus!" shrieked Hermione.

"No, she'd burst in the atmosphere, and then I'd make that piggy cousin of yours eat what's left of her," said Ginny. At this, everyone had to suppress a gag.

"Don't you worry, Harry, we've got you covered," whispered Fred.

"Yeah, Fred and I have brought enough nasty surprises to keep your family odd colors for weeks," finished George.

"Where are they, anyway?" asked Ron, once everyone had got the good-natured violence out of their systems.

"In the Hufflepuff rooms. I think I'm supposed to get them in the morning for breakfast."

"Why don't you just send down the house elves?" asked Ron, earning him a sharp whack on the back of the head from Hermione.

"I think they'd rather starve than face Dobby. I mean, Uncle Vernon thinks _I'm_ abnormal."

Everyone stayed up for another hour, winding down from a very interesting evening. Eventually, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny made their ways up to the fifth year boy's dorm and fell asleep, one by one.


	11. Eleven

Chapter Eleven

"Harry, it's your fault we're dead. He was after you. If we'd given you over, we'd still be alive. Sirius would never have gone to Azkaban, and we'd all have moved on. Your mother and I would have started a new family and we would have forgotten you in time. Now, we're stuck here, with Cedric as our son. One big happy family of people that _you _killed!"

Harry woke up with a start and tears in his eyes. At first, he thought it was just the nightmare, but then he noticed the sharp pain in his scar, and that he could still hear his father's voice in his head, telling him it was all his fault. Telling him to open the window and jump, and they'd be a real family again and they'd forgive him for what he'd done. "No!" Harry screamed, waking the others in a second. Without knowing what he was doing or how he was doing it, Harry put his hands up to the sides of his head and began chanting some ancient spell, his eyes rolling back in his head as he did so.

"Harry!" Ginny screamed, moving towards him only to be caught by Hermione.

"No, Ginny, he's trying to block it. Go get Sirius and Lupin!"

No sooner had Ginny left the dorm than Harry dropped to the floor in convulsions. 

"I thought you said he was fighting it!" said Ron, rushing to Harry's side and trying to prevent him from smashing his head against the floor during his violent fits.

"He must have been! Maybe he just couldn't stop it." Hermione was on the verge of tears, seeing one of her best friends flailing about on the ground in agony.

Lupin and Sirius rushed in and, after several healing charms and stuns failed yet again, Lupin sent Harry flying against the wall, hoping that the jolt would break Voldemort's contact. It did, breaking a few of Harry's ribs in the process.

"Remus, if we don't stop this soon, there'll be nothing left of him to protect," whispered Sirius, levitating Harry back onto his bed.

"I know. Hermione, tell me everything that happened."

Lupin was particularly keen on hearing more about whatever spell Harry had been attempting, but was distracted when Harry came to with a groan.

"Blimey, I feel like I ran into a wall," he moaned, wincing as he tried to pull himself up in bed.

"Well, you did, so don't move. Poppy's on her was up," said Sirius.

No sooner was it said then Madam Pomfrey came in, at the heels of Dumbledore, who promptly asked Harry to tell him what happened. Harry was reluctant to recount what his "father" had said to him, be did so obligingly, finally coming to the conclusion, after four years at Hogwarts, that it was best to just tell Dumbledore everything at once and get it over with. Harry noticed Sirius's face tense up at the mention of Azkaban, but Harry was more relieved that Cho wasn't there to hear him talk about Cedric, and admit to his guilt.

"Remus," Dumbledore asked once Harry had finished his account, "Voldemort must be learning how to control this Blood Stone, if he could speak to Harry. I want you to go wake Severus and for the two of you to go to the library and read up on it. In fact, take Miss Granger here with you. I'm sure she can be of some assistance." Hermione beamed as she followed Lupin out of the room. "Poppy, will he be alright?"

"Yes, I've mended the breaks but he'll be good and sore in the morning. Best let him have a lie in for now. He's got a nasty bump on his head as well."

"That's an entirely different matter, actually. But never mind. Harry, take this potion. It'll help you get a good night's rest. Sirius, will you please stay in here with them?"

With that, it was down to Harry, Ron, Sirius, and a rather frantic Ginny. "Go ahead and drink that, Harry," said Sirius.

"I will in a minute. I just wanted to think about something first."

"Harry, I hope you don't need me to tell you that everything you heard in your mind was rubbish. Your parents don't blame you for anything, and I certainly don't either."

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, I'll take it in a minute." With that, Harry pulled the curtains around his bed, ignoring the ache in his sides. It didn't really matter that Sirius had said he didn't blame Harry for what happened. Harry already blamed himself.

Hermione certainly didn't relish spending a late night in the library with Professor Snape, but she was so happy to be doing _anything_ to help Harry that she put present company aside. Besides, Remus Lupin was there and she had always respected and admired him. One could say she had something of a crush on her former professor, though if one was standing next to Ron while saying this, one would find his face smashed in within nanoseconds. Meanwhile, Snape didn't looked thrilled at having been woken up in the middle of the night to search through a bunch of dusty texts. Still, he had to admit that it was a lot better than being called to a Death Eater meeting after another failed attempt at Potter's life.

"This is ridiculous!" the Potions master finally cried, after skimming through his fiftieth book to no avail. "Half of these are in Bulgarian anyway! Who here can read Bulgarian?!"

"I can," answered Lupin, nose still stuck in a volume on ancient artifacts from Lithuania. "But if you're tired of books, I can give you another problem to mull over. Voldemort told Harry to jump out the window."

"And? I've been tempted to say the same thing from time to time."

Hermione almost said something to that, but decided that she was very close to finding something about the Blood Stone.

"Yes, well, since when does Voldemort want Harry to off himself? I'm sure he has some more painful ends in sight for him."

"Too right, he does," answered Snape.

"Exactly. So all I can think is that Voldemort wanted Harry to open his window for a reason. Possibly to break through the defenses around the tower. If that's the case, someone must have found out to get past the main gates." 

"Oh no!" exclaimed Hermione.

"It's nothing to get worked up over, Granger. The safeguards can be reinforced."

"It's not that, Professor Snape, though I would say that a breach in Hogwarts security is something to worry about. But more so is this," she said, pointing to the page she had just read. "It says here that the only way to counteract a Blood Stone is to either destroy it or become a vampire." 


	12. Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Author's Note: Sorry for all of the typos in the last segment, and how long it's taken me to get a new chapter up. For some reason, my workshops just don't accept Harry Potter fan fiction…stupid Muggles. Anyhoo, all the proper nouns are J.K Rowling's, blah, blah, blah. Thanks to all who reviewed, I feel so special :-) 

Harry woke up feeling like he'd battled all night with a league of Cornish Pixies. Through the gap in his curtains, he could see that Sirius, Ron and Ginny were all still asleep and that Hermione must have spent the night in the library. Turning on his side, which elicited a moan loud enough to stir Ginny and make Ron grumble "Eat troll boogers, Malfoy," Harry saw that it was nearly eight in the morning, the time when the Dursleys usually took breakfast. _Maybe I'll just let them starve for one day,_ thought Harry. _It'll do Dudley some good._ But he still got out of bed, pulling his robes on as quietly as he could as he made his was down the stairs to the common room.

"Morning, Harry," greeted Hermione, looking up from the book that she had brought back from the library an hour earlier. Was it Harry's imagination, or did she sound a bit too cheerful?

"Good morning, Hermione. You eat yet?"

"No, I was going to wait for Ron and the others to come down. Where are you going?"

"Dursleys," Harry grumbled, receiving a look of pity from Hermione as he slowly climbed out of the portrait, wincing at the pain in his side. Harry was turning down the corridor to the Hufflepuff common room when he heard voices coming up the stairwell that led to the dungeons. As usual, his moral objections to eavesdropping flew out the window and he stopped dead in his tracks to listen.

"I don't want to hear it, Severus. It's out of the question!" Lupin sounded very angry and very annoyed.

"Listen, Lupin, I'm not saying that I'm not going to try to find it, but you must realize that, if I'm caught, I'm a dead man!"

"Of course I realize that! And I also know that Dumbledore won't ask you to do anything too dangerous."

"He won't have to ask. All he has to do is look at me with those damned trusting eyes and I'll feel guilty if I don't run off and give myself to Voldemort!"

"There might be other ways, Severus. Someone else could be able to get the Blood Stone and destroy it."

"Oh, don't be idiotic! There is no one else! I'm the only one near the inner circle, and Voldemort still doesn't trust me. There's no way we can insert another operative into the fold and expect them to ingratiate themselves in time to save Potter."

"Maybe it won't have to be a spy. It could be an open attack. We can't rush to conclusions."

"I'm not rushing, I'm just preparing. It's not like you have to lay your life on the line for that little wretch."

"I'd watch what you say about Harry, Severus. You might just find yourself in a painful position next full moon."

"Is that a threat, werewolf?"

An eerie growl echoed up to Harry's hallway.

"Look Lupin, I'm not saying I'm unwilling to look for it. But we should at least prepare ourselves for the other option. Owl Luca. Even if we don't need him to bite Harry, it'll still be smart to have one of the last neutral vampires on our side, wouldn't it?"

It sounded as if the two men were about to reach the top of the staircase, so Harry proceeded down the hall. "Helga," he whispered, finding his throat too tight to speak up.

"About bloody time, boy," greeted Uncle Vernon, a snarl on his face.

"Well, if you'd rather I send the house ELVES up from now on, that's fine by me," Harry retorted, not in the mood to take any grief from his family. At the mention of elves, Aunt Petunia started to sway on her feet and Dudley reverted to that fail-safe position of covering his bum with his hands. "Now follow me and pay attention, because I might not be around every morning to lead you to your meals." With that, Harry led the way down to the Great Hall, not entirely surprised when the Dursleys took their seats at the Slytherin table, as far away from the Head Table as possible. Professor Dumbledore was already seated there, along with Prof. McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley, who were looking over what appeared to be a Muggle newspaper. Mr. Weasley must have left for America already. Turning his attention back to the Dursleys, he explained the idea behind the enchanted serving plates and then left them to take a seat at the Gryffindor table, not wanting to disturb the others.

"Harry, please, join us up here," welcomed Dumbledore, pointing to Professor Flitwick's empty chair. Nodding a greeting to McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley, Harry took his seat and set in on his plate of eggs and toast.

"I can't understand this bloody thing!" announced an exasperated Mrs. Weasley, tossing aside the newspaper and folding her arms over her chest.

"What are you looking for?" asked Harry, amused that the pout had spread to McGonagall's face as well.

"We're trying to find a house for your family," McGonagall answered, pointing to the classified section of the paper. "We just don't know where to start."

Taking up the paper, Harry saw the problem: they were looking in the "Help Wanted" section. "I don't understand why anyone would need a house that only works part time," said Mrs. Weasley. Harry, his head hurting too much to explain, simply turned to the real estate page, scanned the listings for a location near Privet Drive, and pointed out three houses to Professor McGonagall, very red in the cheek from embarrassment. 

Just then, Lupin and Snape walked in, ceasing their argument the moment they saw Harry. Shooting a glare that he normally reserved for Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Harry Potter at the gluttonous Muggles polluting the Slytherin table, Snape took his seat beside Mrs. Weasley. 

"Good morning Harry," greeted Lupin, trying to mask the tension in his face.

"'ello Remus," Harry returned, still not quite used to that name, or what he had heard his friend talking about earlier.

"Sirius and the others still sleeping?"

"Either that or they're trying to stop Fred and George from blowing up the place," Harry grinned. As if to prove his point, Sirius, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all burst into the hall sporting neon blue hair and orange eye brows. Mrs. Weasley took one look at them, bellowed "Fred! George!" and rushed out of the Hall, leaving everyone else on the brink of tears from laughing, except a determined Snape and a very scandalized Dursley family. Once the din had died down, Sirius explained that the twins had bewitched the water in the bathrooms. Mrs. Weasley soon returned, dragging the twins in by their ears and forcing them, through poorly disguised giggles, to apologize. That done, everybody left the Great Hall for a meeting in Dumbledore's office. Everybody, that is, except the for the Dursleys, who were waiting for Dudley to get his fill off the bewitched plates. Something told Harry that they'd be waiting a very long time.


	13. Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

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Author's Note: Big thanks to all who reviewed, and those who haven't, THANKS FOR NUTHIN! Just kidding, but anyhoo, sorry it's been so long, Spring Break you know and I am a party animal. Again, just kidding. But I could be a big fat loser or a six- foot cockroach for all you care. As usual, anything good in this story doesn't belong to me. 

Dumbledore's big meeting was really a formal invitation to stay at Hogwarts for the remainder of the summer and to warn the twins that the Forbidden Forrest was just that. 

"Well, we're off house hunting," announced Mrs. Weasley, looking less than thrilled about putting much thought into the future residence of the most abominable Muggles in England.

"Make sure there's a sty in the yard for Dudley!" shouted Fred as the two witches left the Entrance Hall.

"No, they don't have to worry about that. Dudley makes a sty out of wherever he happens to be," joked Harry, whose mood had lightened some upon seeing the dazzling new hairstyles of his friends. Unfortunately, Hermione soon set things right and Harry was forced to recall the conversation he had overheard before breakfast. Pulling Hermione and Ron aside, he whispered, "I need to talk to you."

They started to make their way down the hall when they saw the twins and Ginny following behind. As close as Harry felt to the other Weasleys and as much as they deserved to be in on this situation, Harry was reluctant to get them involved, especially if what he had heard was true. If Harry was going to become a vampire, he certainly didn't want everyone he cared about to know it. In a rather dirty trick, Harry flashed a smile at Ginny and asked her if she'd mind terribly babysitting the Dursleys, or at least seeing them back to their rooms. "I'd do it myself but…"

"Of course, Harry!" Ginny beamed. Harry felt a lurch in the pit of his stomach, but put it down to having one too many sausages. "We'll help too!" joined in the twins, matching evil smirks on both of their faces. Hermione looked as if she was going to say something, but Harry and Ron tugged at her wrists and led the way to the owlery for some privacy.

"Go on and tell him," Ron urged to Hermione, once they had reached their destination. The two had argued earlier that morning about whether they should tell Harry about the Blood Stone, then who should tell Harry about the Blood Stone, then where and when and how until, finally, they noticed that their hair was neon and all serious thoughts, apart from "Note to Self: Kill Fred and George", escaped their minds. And now Hermione suddenly found great interest in a pile of owl dropping, but soon succumbed to a harsh pinch from Ron.

"Oh, Harry, last night I…" she began, stumbling for words and gaping at Harry as if he was already the undead.

"It's ok, I think I know what you found out," Harry mumbled, finally accepting that it was all too true.

"What?" Hermione sputtered. "How?"

"Overheard Snape and Lupin talking about some vampire chum noshing on my neck. I'm guessing that the only way to stop these attacks is to become a vampire, eh?"

"No, Harry, there's another way!" Hermione sounded so desperate that Harry stopped feeling sorry for himself and turned his attention to her. "Someone can find and destroy the stone!"

"Yes, but you didn't hear Snape. It doesn't sound as if his chances are very good, and besides which, he's bloody terrified."

Ron muttered something about "coward" and "slimy" but had the decency to keep his voice low, since he was terrified of Voldemort as well. "So what are you going to do?" he asked. Of course, this was a stupid question as well. Harry couldn't **do**anything. Or could he?

"I'm going to go see Lupin."

"What, buddying up with him in case he's not the only monster in Hogwarts?" quipped Ron. Both Harry and Hermione, however, found this a tasteless joke and let him know it by throwing some vicious scowls at him. "Sorry," he murmured, trying unsuccessfully to shoot a winning smile at Hermione. The three of them started back to the Gryffindor common room, hoping to find Remus there. On the way there, they were suddenly blindsided by a blur of blue and gold, literally screaming down towards the Hufflepuff rooms. Once Harry, Ron and Hermione disentangled themselves from the suit of armor they had fallen into, they came face to face with Fred and George. "What was that about?!" asked Harry, even though he had a good idea.

"Just giving your family a hint of school spirit," grinned George. Ginny soon joined them in the hall. "I'm so sorry, Harry! I didn't mean for the twins to get hold of your family!" she apologized, glaring at the snickering Weasley boys.

"It's ok. Just don't call them family. You guys are more of my family than they'll ever be."

"Aww, Harry, mate, we're touched," said Fred, wiping away a non-existent tear.

"Oh, shove off," joked Harry, wriggling out of George's embrace as they reached the Fat Lady. "Oddment Tweak," Harry said. Unfortunately, Lupin wasn't there.

"We can go down to see Hagrid?" suggested Hermione.

"Or we can go with the twins to terrorize your cousin some more. But I'm staying away from your uncle. He's got a nasty temper," Ron put in.

"No, I'm going to find Lupin. Why don't you two just go on without me and I'll see you at lunch."

"Harry," frowned Hermione, "I don't think you should…"

"Wonder around by myself? Thanks, Hermione, but I think I'll survive." Harry knew it wasn't fair to snap at her like that, but when would people realize that it didn't matter who was watching over him? If Voldemort wanted him dead, a few more sessions with the Blood Stone would do it. "Look, I'm sorry, Hermione. But I'll be ok. Really. You two go and enjoy your summer. I'll be back soon." And with that, Harry headed to Lupin's old office. This time, he was not disappointed.

"Harry! How are you doing?" greeted Remus, who had resettled into his old quarters on Dumbledore's insistence. 

"Remus, I know what's going on. I know about the Blood Stone and I know about Luca." 

Lupin looked frozen with shock. But, this being the calm, collected Remus Lupin, it only lasted a second. "How…"

"Listen, that's not what I want to talk about," interrupted Harry. Well, he would like to ask if he was going to be drinking blood by the end of the summer, but he had something else on his mind, something he hadn't mentioned to Ron or Hermione, something he didn't even want to ask Sirius about. "I also know about Aglaia Gryffindor. So how do I use these powers?"

Hermione, Ron and Ginny were met with the booming barks of Fang when they knocked on the door to Hagrid's hut. After Harry had left the common room, the three of them had kept themselves amused by listening to the schemes of Fred and George, who were planning to infiltrate the kitchens that night and slip some new recipes into the Dursleys' breakfast dishes. But even that got tiresome and they soon found themselves crossing the grounds.

"All right, 'ermione? Ron? Ginny?" greeted Hagrid. Upon entering the room, they saw that Sirius was there as well.

"Where's Harry?" he asked sternly. He had thought that Hermione would keep a tight leash on his godson, even though she did have her hands occupied with the Weasley boy.

"He's with Remus," Hermione answered. "What are you two up to then?"

"We're helping Snape reset the security wards," answered Sirius, that familiar Marauder's grin on his face. Hermione cocked her eyebrow at him. "Looks like you're working very hard at that."

"Oh, he can manage by 'imself," snorted Hagrid, passing a rock cake along to Ginny, who, not knowing better, accepted. When she bit into it, however, Ron and Hermione were shocked not to hear the sound of teeth breaking. Hagrid chuckled with amusement. "Olympe's been helping out with me cooking," he admitted, blushing as he sat back down on his mammoth bed.

"So you two did go off to talk to the giants?" asked Ron.

"Not sayin'," Hagrid answered, which usually meant yes. "Anyways, when did you two become an item?" he winked at Hermione, making it her turn to blush, since Sirius was also taking notice of the conversation. 

"Beginning of the holiday," Ron beamed proudly. "And of course, Ginny plans to marry Harry by year's end."

"Ron!" screeched Hermione, slapping her boyfriend rather hard on the knee. Ron grinned and turned to Ginny, expecting his sister's cheeks to be red as a beet, but instead found her perfectly calm, if not a bit long in mouth.

"Harry would no sooner fancy me than a hole in the head," she said, turning her attention to the tea Hagrid had placed before her. Sirius had something to say against this statement. He had noticed a change in Harry's behavior towards Ginny, but as his loyalty lied with his godson's right to privacy, he kept his mouth shut. Thankfully, Hagrid didn't. "Bollocks! He'd be a lucky man who has you by his side."

"Speaking of Harry, why is he with Remus?" Sirius broke in.

"Have you heard what we found out about the Blood Stone?" Hermione asked, obviously not joyous at the prospect of breaking such news to the very volatile Sirius Black. Luckily, he nodded. "Well, I suppose he wanted to talk to him about that," she answered, though she wasn't sure what help Lupin would be. "Do you have any idea who breached Hogwarts security wards?"

"It could gave been Arabella," answered Sirius. "But she's not exactly well acquainted with this school in modern times. I suspect it's an insider. Probably Malfoy or one of his gain."

"Malfoy? Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater?!" exclaimed Ginny.

"Ginny, where on earth have you been these past four years?" yelled Ron.

Draco Malfoy was livid. More to the point, Lucius Malfoy was livid about Draco and Draco was livid about this fact. At any rate, there had been a lot of anger at the Malfoy Manor ever since the Quidditch match. Lucius had planned a surprise for his master, a perfect scheme to capture Harry Potter. Well, near-perfect. The Golden Snitch was meant to be a port key that would lead directly to Voldemort's lair of the week. All Draco had to do was see to it that the Potter boy win, which shouldn't have been too difficult because, in Lucius's opinion, his son was a bumbling incompetent fool. Of course, he hadn't planned on Draco's inability to remember a simple concealment spell. So it was that, prior to the match, Alistor Moody snuck into the Slytherine's changing rooms on the suspicion that they would cheat horribly and he replaced the quaffle, bludgers and snitch with his own set. Thus, Harry and the Defenders won the game but failed to be transported to their imminent deaths. Thankfully, Lucius had arranged for the port key's power to disappear if handled by anyone besides Draco or Potter, and a slew of Death Eaters caused ample commotion following the match to make the whole thing worth while, but things had still gone wrong.

"We'd be at the Dark Lord's side if you had not fouled things up!" Lucius shouted over breakfast this morning. Draco, of course, had been hearing the same sentiment for days now. 

"I know, Father," he drawled. "But at least we didn't spoil the master's new plans to deal with Potter." Granted, Draco wasn't privy to what these plans entailed, but he'd been ensured they were horribly painful and that was enough for him. He was more upset that he had lost the Quidditch match for nothing (Draco is the type that does not recognize his own shortcomings and thus is smugly happy with who he is). "And the Dark Lord does not know of our…my failure, which is also an advantage for us." Voldemort's use of the Cruciatus Curse on Goyle when he botched the Death Eater's Oath had demonstrated his intolerance for incompetence. 

"Be that as it may, you must do something to gain more favor from our master. Being my son alone is not enough in this situation, Draco. You must distinguish yourself."

"How?"

"Get someone close to Potter when you're back at Hogwarts, or sooner if possible. Don't bother with that Weasley boy or his mudblood girlfriend. They'll be too gaurded, but I'm sure you can get hold of someone he cares about and then deliver them to You-Know-Who."

"To be killed or turned against Potter?"

"Does it matter?" Lucius asked, hoping that his son wasn't growing compassionate despite his strong upbringing.

"No, it doesn't matter." With that, Draco was left to decide who Harry would miss more. "Ginny Weasley." 


	14. Fourteen

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Author's Note: Thanks to all who review…where's everyone else? That's ok though. Sorry if Draco stays the little punk he is in the books. It's not like I don't love the fan fics that portray him in a sweeter light, but hey, I don't have that vivid of an imagination. Ok, nuff said. I already have the next chapter written, but I'll be hanging on to it for a little while why I decide some things. Oh, and Madam Rowling has the privilege of owning these names, but everything behind them belongs to all of us! 

Chapter Fourteen

"How do you know about Aglaia Gryffindor?" asked Lupin, not sure if he should be upset that someone told Harry or relieved that he hadn't had to.

"It feels like I can hear everything going on all over Britain when Voldemort uses that Blood Stone." Harry had wanted to tell someone about what he had heard that first night at Hogwarts, the story behind Voldemort's bloodlust. He had wanted to talk to Sirius about it after he heard his "father" say it was all his fault. But Sirius's eyes always glazed over, haunted just as they had been after his escape from the dementors, whenever he was reminded of the night Harry's parents were killed. Besides that, Harry knew what Sirius would say. He always said the same thing: "It wasn't your fault. There's nothing you could have done." Sirius had said this after Peter Pettigrew had escaped, then after Cedric died and Voldemort returned to power. But Harry knew there was something he could have done, never being born at the top of the list. But at the moment, he wasn't looking for pity and he certainly wasn't entertaining self-pity. Right now, he wanted to fight back, and Remus Lupin was an expert on that.

"Harry, whatever you heard, about your parents…" Remus didn't know quite what to say. But the look of determination on Harry's face decided it for him. Harry didn't need him to say anything.

"All of that doesn't matter," Harry answered. "Well, it does matter, but right now I want to know about this thing I've inherited and how I can use it. Aglaia could block a lot of curses, right? Maybe, if I knew how to handle that power, I could block the Blood Stone as well."

"I'm not so sure, Harry. There's only two known ways to…"

"Well I don't bloody want to be a vampire!" Harry snapped. "I think I have enough on my mind most of the time without worrying about nibbling on Ron's neck." Then Harry realized how that last statement sounded and he felt his face burning from the embarrassment. "I mean…"

"It's ok," Lupin laughed, relieved that some of the tension had left the room. "Alright, Harry. I can see that you need something constructive to do in this situation, so I'll try my best to help in every way I can. But you must realize that this magic hasn't properly been used since Aglaia's death. And unfortunately for us, she didn't leave behind an instruction guide. But Professor Dumbledore does have some texts that might be useful. Why don't we take a walk up to his office and go from there?"

The two were rather quiet on the walk towards the stone gargoyle leading to Dumbledore's office, both thinking about the arrival of Luca. Remus had owled his old acquaintance and was surprised to receive a reply only an hour later. The last time they had seen each other, Luca was living in his fortress in Russia, thanking Remus for ridding him of some troublesome Pogrebin's that just could not be stupefied. But as Lupin was able to subdue the beasts with a few sharp kicks to the backside, he refused to accept pay, instead opting for an IOU. Luckily, Luca remembered the promise and had agreed to travel to Hogsmeade and hear what Lupin had to say. 

"Where's Sirius?" Lupin asked, breaking the draining silence.

"I haven't seen him since breakfast," Harry answered. "Maybe he's helping with the security problem."

….

"Bloody Black…lazy git…damn prickler bushes…" Snape muttered. He had been trekking around the perimeter of Hogwarts property for over an hour, checking the seals in the protective guards and adding new security measures here and there. He knew it wasn't the smartest thing Black had ever done, leaving him to do all the work. After all, he was bound to be called to Voldemort's side sooner or later and, like it or not, the Dark Lord did have ways of making one talk. "I'll just leave the castle walls to him," he thought to himself. "But knowing that man, he'll probably leave the work to Granger and skip out to cause trouble."

Snape continued cursing the name of Sirius Black as he walked along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, skirting around the Whomping Willow, "damn tree", never noticing the rat perched on it's immobilized branch, the rat with one silver paw. Once Snape had gone out of sight, the rat scooted down a hole at the base of the tree and soon vanished. After all, Peter Pettigrew couldn't risk being seen on the Marauders Map, now could he?

"Well?" snapped the cold, needling voice that sent shivers down Wormtail's spine. He wished he could use his new hand, with all of its steely strength, to crush the vocal chords that produced that hideous voice, but then where would he be? No, Wormtail was not a man that could stand on his own and he knew that. 

"Severus Snape will know all of the new charms. He's overseeing the security additions."

"Good. We shall see if he's faithful enough to report these without being asked. If not, maybe it's time to be done with his services."

"But, master, I thought you wanted him as a spy within Hogwarts?" 

"There really will be no more need, once I've mastered the stone. After I get my hands on the Potter boy, Dumbledore will be next and then all power will be mine."

****

"It's not going anywhere!" Harry was rather frustrated. He and Lupin had been working for three hours straight and still Harry couldn't perform the simplest spell in Dumbledore's book. He was beginning to feel rather put out by the whole thing.

"Harry, you can hardly expect to just pick it up on the first try," comforted Remus. "Why don't we stop for lunch? If you still want to work on it, we can meet again later this afternoon. I'm sure that Ron and Hermione are looking for you."

"I doubt it. Have you even seen those two together? It's kind of revolting." Well, Harry didn't find it _too_ revolting, but he had to admit that he could go without all of the public displays of affection Ron was throwing about.

"Well, there's always Ginny. I'm sure she must be getting tired of watching the twins torment your cousin." Harry had nearly forgot about the Dursleys. No doubt they'd be expecting lunch soon as well.

"All right, I'm going to collect the Dursleys. And in case you'd be worried about my whereabouts from then on, I'll be taking my lunch out to the lake."

"I don't need your itinerary, Harry. Granted, I'd prefer you not be alone, in case there's another attack. Will you at least take somebody along?" Harry gave Lupin an indecisive nod and headed off towards the Hufflepuff quarters, bumping into the Fat Friar along the way.

"That man in the Hufflepuff common room is the most intolerable individual I have ever met!" the Fat Friar huffed. 

"Sorry about that," Harry apologized. "He's not used to seeing ghosts is all."

"No excuse, all that bellowing. Threatened me with a chaise lounge! Not that that would have had any effect, but still!" 

Again apologizing to the ruffled ghost, Harry let himself into the Hufflepuff dormitory. It looked as if there had been a siege there in the short time between breakfast and lunch. All of the furniture was pushed against the wall in an attempt to block the portrait way, so it took Harry several _Wingardium Leviosa_'s to get through the door. "You do know that ghosts can go through solids, right?" he asked, directing his voice to where the Dursleys had hidden once the chairs started flying.

"Oh, it's you. Yes, we bloody realized that, thank you very much. How much longer until we're out of here then?" Uncle Vernon asked, although his tone was a little less harsh than it had been earlier. _Must be tired of Fred and George's tricks, _thought Harry. 

"It all depends on a number of factors really, and I'm sure you'd rather not hear about them," grumbled Harry, who had begun to lead the Dursley's back to the Great Hall. It was hard for him to avoid getting lost, even though he knew the castle well, because of the various changing hallways and trick steps in the alien Hufflepuff wing of the castle.

"Why don't you try me?" snarled Uncle Vernon, having just freed his ankle from one of those trick steps. A portrait of Uric the Odd laughed at him from beneath his helmet.

"All right then, Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley are trying to find you a decent house in the same neighborhood, so who knows how long that will take. Besides that, Voldemort, the nastiest wizard since Grindewald and the guy that killed Mum and Dad, is after me and, according to his politics, wouldn't mind topping off you lot as well. And apparently I'm safe when I'm around my family, so you may be stuck here until we can stop Voldemort's new plan for world domination, or until he kills me, which may be tonight for all I know. Of course, I'm supposed to be this really powerful wizard, but that's not going to do me any good in the short term. And finally, I may become a vampire any day now, in which case you can go as soon as they find you a house. Now here's your table, have a pleasant lunch, I'm off." And with that, Harry left the Dursleys, mouths agape, and went down to the kitchens to get some picnic food from Dobby and Winky.

Harry hadn't planned on taking Lupin's advice about finding a chaperone to heart, but as he made his way towards the lake, he saw Ginny coming towards him from Hagrid's hut.

"Hello, Ginny, how's Hagrid doing?" he asked, placing his picnic basket on the ground after tiring of its substantial weight (Dobby, so excited to see Harry again, had crammed an entire turkey, three loaves of bread, a few different types of puddings and two jugs of pumpkin juice into the basket before Harry got a word in edge wise). 

"He's doing well. He went off with Mr. Black and Professor Snape a while ago, and Ron and Hermione have already gone inside for lunch. Why aren't you in there with them?" Harry couldn't help but notice that Ginny's face was rather flushed, but he decided not to say anything. It was refreshing to hear more than a sentence from the youngest Weasley.

"I'm not sure, maybe I just wanted some fresh air. Care to join me? I've got enough food to feed a hippogriff in here," he said, nudging the basket with his foot. Soon the two of them had set up lunch by the lake's edge, just out of reach of the giant squid's tentacles. "So, what are Fred and George up to?" Harry asked, passing Ginny a glass of pumpkin juice and watching the squid gliding across the glassy surface.

"I think they're on the Quidditch pitch. They've got their minds set on being co-captains this year, even though they know you'll get the job."

"I doubt that," Harry mumbled. Ginny took it as a sign of his endearing modesty, but Harry was thinking more on the lines of _I doubt I'll live that long, and if I do, I doubt I'll be up for a day in the sun_. "Have you seen anyone or anything else this morning? I've been locked up with Remus all day."

"No, it's been very quiet around here. Mum and Professor McGonagall came back for a bit but then went off to Hogsmeade for lunch. I think they overheard Fred and George arguing over whether to turn your aunt into a horse or a blast-ended skrewt and decided they'd rather not deal with it." They both laughed, and Harry nearly forgot all that had been bothering him until a blinding light flashed within his eyes and a building pressure seized his entire body. _Go to the tree. You know the way. You can't fight me this time. And if you do, next time I won't come after you alone._ Harry knew that voice. This time, Voldemort wasn't speaking through his dad. "Ginny, get help," he managed to squeeze out, before he doubled over in pain. As Ginny ran frantically towards the castle, Harry's hand went up to his temples and he began again chanting some ancient spell that did not sound like anything he had reviewed with Lupin earlier that morning. Soon, his neck began to seize up, then his head began to convulse, but Harry still had control of his lower limbs. 

__

This isn't working! He thought, amazed that the words he had been repeating over and over again were still coming out of his mouth, even without thought. _Of course it isn't working!_ Hissed Voldemort. _Go to the tree and the pain will stop. Forever. _Harry ignored the voice. He would have even laughed at the pathetic level of influence that Voldemort's words seemed to have over him, if not for the fact that his head was locked in what felt like the worse Cruciatus curse imaginable. _Come quick, its Harry!_ Harry knew that voice. Ginny had made it to the castle and they'd be there soon. But Harry was already beginning to lose what little control he had left, and he did not want to think of what would happen if the Blood Stone led him through the Whomping Willow's passage. And then he remembered how Lupin and Sirius had stopped the attacks earlier: by throwing him into a wall. Granted, there was no wall here, but any shock would work, right? Anything damaging enough to stop the connection…and Ginny would be there with help in a minute. So it was decided; Harry walked into the lake, trying to swim into a deep enough area, gave up on fighting the Blood Stone once underwater, and immediately started convulsing, taking in great gulps of water, the weight of his robes dragging him down to the lake bed.


	15. Fifteen

****

From me: I own Luca I suppose, but no one else. Thanks to all who reviewed. Please pass the word along about this story. Next chapter may be a while in coming, but never fear, I'll get it done sooner or later.

Chapter Fifteen

"Where is he?" sobbed Hermione, coming up to halt at the picnic setup. Ginny had burst into the Great Hall in tears, stopping her cries only to tell them all that Harry was in trouble, and then rushed outside again, followed by Dumbledore, Lupin, Sirius, Snape, Hermione and Ron, all running to catch up. "He was here!" Ginny yelled, pointing to where she had been laughing with Harry only minutes ago. "He grabbed hold of his head, told me to get help, and then started whispering charms. It sounded Welsh." Dumbledore took in the whole scene, his eyes finally resting upon the bank of the lake, where he saw faint foot prints in the sand. "Remus, go get Poppy," he ordered, rushing up to the water's edge. "_Accio Harry_" he said, but immediately knew that something was weighing the boy down. 

"I'll get him," said Snape and, before Sirius had a chance to fight him over who got to save his godson, the potion master summoned the nearest broomstick (which happened to be beneath Fred Weasley at the time, causing him to fall ten feet and sprain his ankle) and flew out into the middle of the lake, where the giant squid was circling. Diving in, he pulled out his wand and a gurgled "_Lumos_" was enough to cast light on the sea of green weed that hovered between him and the lakebed far below. Soon his lungs were crying out for air, and Snape cast a Bubble-head charm, frowning at the memory of Cedric Diggory, who, despite the pretty face, had done reasonably well in his Potions class. Snape increased his speed, doubting whether even Potter could survive this for very long. Snape was in such a rush that he damn near broke the hand off a few grabby Grindylows. "He's over there, but I don't think he'll be joining me yet," a mopey voice sounded, giving Snape a severe shock. He turned to the left and saw a spotty ghost that looked rather familiar to him. Marris, or something like that. She was pointing to Snape's right, and soon Snape found Harry Potter, a large rock pinning his robes to the sandy floor.

"He's been down there too long," whispered Ron, holding on to Hermione's hand, who started squeezing even harder when she saw Madam Pomfrey nod out of the corner of her eye.

"There they are!" exclaimed Sirius, who had been pacing along the edge of the lake. They all watched as Snape draped Harry's lifeless body over the broom, which had been hovering over the lake in his absence. Once he conjured some rope to bind Harry to the broom, he waved to the shore. "_Accio Harry" _Dumbledore repeated, and Harry and the broom came speeding back to land, leaving Snape to swim back to shore.

Poppy didn't even bother to answer the worried and frantic questions of Harry's friends; she put Harry on the stretcher she had brought, levitated him to the hospital wing, and locked the door behind them. The last thing she needed was to have everyone that cared about the boy watch as she tried in vain to save him. At least he's not in pain, she thought, as she cleared his lungs of the water and tried to resuscitate him. _There's no way, he's been under too long_, she thought, hardly believing it when the boy began to sputter for air. But then she did believe it when he threw up a pint of sandy water onto her once-clean infirmary floor. "Sorry," he groaned, his throat feeling, not surprisingly, like sand paper. 

"Well, I thought you were dead!" she huffed, handing Harry a dry set of robes to change into.

"Yeah, I think I was," he mumbled. In fact, Harry knew he was. Just as his mind had become aware of everyone's conversations during the attack with the Blood Stone, so was Harry aware of the conversations at Voldemort's end. 

"That damned boy's died on me!" screamed the waspish voice.

"Congratulations, master," someone groveled. Harry was sure it was Wormtail, but he didn't sound too thrilled.

"Silence! I had plans for Potter! I could have used this stone to make him destroy Dumbledore, once he's perfected his ancestor's art. Now I'll have to keep Severus on at the school." That's all Harry heard before Moaning Myrtle came into the picture, telling him that they could have a fun time if he was a ghost, but that she doubted that would happen. Harry ignored the rest, listening instead to the voices from above, that were getting more and more quiet the longer his body remained dead. He could hear Sirius and Remus admonishing themselves for not keeping a closer eye on him. He could hear Dumbledore comforting a crying Ginny. He could hear Ron exclaiming his disbelief to Hermione that Snape had gone into the lake after Harry. And then he woke up in the infirmary.

"How is he?" asked an anxious Sirius when Poppy came out of the hospital wing. They had all been waiting outside in silence, and Sirius had set himself to hear the worst.

"He's fine. He wants to speak to you alone, Headmaster," answered Madam Pomfrey, nodding Dumbledore into the clinic.

"Thank God!" Sirius exclaimed, giving a bear hug to the nearest person, part in sheer joy, and part in the wish to keep himself from falling over. 

"As touching as this is, Black, would you mind letting go?" sneered Snape, though the shock and- was it happiness…probably not- on his face couldn't be hidden. Sirius, not to mention Lupin and everyone else, was just as shocked to see that he was embracing Severus Snape. He quickly let go and had a masculine cough, before returning his gaze to Snape's eyes. "Thank you, Severus. I'm in your debt." Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Lupin nodded in agreement.

"Yes, well, maybe you can make it up to me by thinking of a way I can avoid getting killed by Voldemort next time I see him," he answered, before rushing down the corridor, back to his dungeon to change into something warmer. Before everyone else could voice their amazement, Dumbledore returned into the corridor. Harry had told him everything that he had heard and was now taking a well-deserved rest.

"You all can see Harry at supper time, right now he's resting. Remus, Sirius, will you please come with me? Where's Severus?"

"He ran away after Sirius hugged him," joked Ron, before receiving yet another whack on the back of the head from Hermione.

"Indeed?" asked Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement. He wished he had been there to see it. "Well, children, I suggest you go find Fred and George and bring them up to date. And would someone be kind enough to check on the Dursleys?" With that, Dumbledore, Sirius and Lupin went off towards his office, and Ron, Hermione and Ginny went off to find the twins, only to intercept them at the front door.

"What happened to you?" Hermione asked, pointing at Fred's bandaged ankle.

"My broom took off without me. Unfortunately, I wasn't on the ground at the time. What's going on here?" Rather than stay for the long story, Ginny went off in search of the Dursleys, fighting the urge to skip through the halls after hearing that Harry was ok.

"Hello?" she called into the cavernous common room of the Hufflepuff wing. The overwhelming presence of yellow burned her eyes as she scanned the room for any sign of the Dursleys. 

"Oh, it's you, is it?" greeted Petunia Dursley, who had exchanged a few civil words with Ginny that morning, before being attacked by two vicious red-haired boys.

"Where's the boy?" growled Vernon Dursley, visibly unhappy at having to be in close quarters with one of _them_.

"Harry drowned this afternoon after another attack, but Madam Pomfrey was able to bring him back and now he's resting in the hospital wing, if you'd care to visit him," answered Ginny, though she suspected that last bid for compassion would be too much. Indeed it was.

"Not bloody likely," snorted Mr. Dursley. "It's a shame he didn't stay drowned."

It took all of Ginny's restraint not to physically assault Harry's horrid uncle on the spot, but she set her mind on relaying this conversation to her brothers, who were bound to see that retribution was made in full. 

"Yes, well, if he's not well enough by tonight, I'll come for you at dinner time," she whispered, curtailing her fury as she retreated back into the hall and rushed to report the whole business to a livid Ron Weasley, who quickly set to devise a plan with Fred and George that was sure to change the Dursleys' attitude.

* *

"Severus, you are in danger," announced Dumbledore, once he had coaxed the Potions master out of the dungeons and had summoned Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley to return at once. Now Dumbledore's resistance, minus Mr. Weasley and Mad Eye Moody, were all seated around his office, having been briefed on the recent events.

"With all due respect, Headmaster, that comes as no surprise," answered Snape with an indulgent tone.

"Yes, Severus, but what Harry as heard leads me to believe that Voldemort plans, or had planned, to kill you. If you are unwilling to answer his next call, we all would not hold it against you."

It annoyed Snape to know end that Remus Lupin and Sirius Black both nodded in agreement and looked at him with something so close to pity. But then he could not honestly say to himself that he had not considered ignoring his duties as a spy for Dumbledore and instead fleeing from Voldemort's temper. Alas, he could not disappoint the man who had put so much faith in him. "I need not remind you, Professor, that Voldemort still has the Blood Stone and that it is only a matter of time before he masters it. Luca is on his way here, but may not be willing to join our leagues. And even if he were, I'm sure I'm not the only one to think that Potter becoming a vampire is not the ideal end to this situation. If Voldemort has decided to put up with me, I must take the opportunity to at least attempt to find the stone."

"But Severus," broke in Lupin, "Voldemort is only keeping you on because he thinks Harry is dead. He's bound to be corrected soon, and then where will you be?"

"Maybe Voldemort won't use the stone again?" offered McGonagall, who had been trying harder over the months to say You-Know-Who's name rather than fear it.

"Minerva, the Dark Lord is an intelligent man…if you can call him a man. He will not give this course up so easily," answered Sirius.

"Sir, is there a way to make 'im think 'arry's dead, when he's not?" asked Hagrid, who felt a little out of his depth in this situation.

"There are several ways to stop his heart from beating while keeping him alive, but I'm afraid the Stone is drawn to his mind, not his heart," answered Dumbledore. 

"We could try a freezing charm on him," suggested Snape, though his audible confidence in this idea was lacking. "That charm in known to virtually incapacitate all bodily functions, apart from a faint heart rate, and there are no reports of brain activity."

"Yes, it's possible that Luca will have another suggestion when I see him this evening, but that is the only thing I can think of as well," agreed Remus.

"What will you tell Voldemort?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her frayed nerves translated into a hoarse whisper.

"Severus, tell him, if you are called before we have a final solution to this conundrum, that you heard of Harry's drowning. Avoid any specifics if you can, but if you are asked whether he was revived or not, say simply that I sent you away to see to the other children and you are unaware of Harry's condition. I also want you to tell him all the charms you used on the security wards for the outer perimeter of Hogwarts grounds. It may be enough to draw away suspicions of your loyalty. Sirius, Remus and Minerva will see to it that security surrounding the castle walls and within the school are impeccable in order to concentrate. Remus, persuade Luca to come back here with you immediately to speak, rather than lingering in Hogsmeade. In the meantime, all of you rest before dinner. I'm going to stay with Harry and see if we can't make some headway in his development. Miss Weasley may have given a hint we need to understand Aglaia's powers."

Madam Pomfrey finally let Harry go just before dinner. "I ought to have your meals brought in here," she huffed, frustrated by all the racket Harry had been causing since he woke up an hour earlier.

"Come on, Madam Pomfrey! I doubt the walk to the Great Hall will kill me," Harry teased. He was desperate to see his friends again, and a stuffy and overanxious mediwitch is not the best company to have. Reluctantly, Madam Pomfrey handed back Harry's glasses, which she had confiscated to keep him in the hospital wing, and showed him to the door. "Now don't let me catch you back in here!" she scolded before he ran off down the hall. 

"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione, jumping up from the table to hug her friend, much to his embarrassment. But it was worth it to see the tips of Ron's ears redden. "I'm fine, Hermione. You can let go now," Harry wheezed, finally escaping from the bear hug he had been enveloped in and taking the empty seat between Sirius and Ginny. It was then that Harry noticed the stranger sitting beside Lupin. He was dark, his hair was even blacker than Harry's, and a tan that didn't seem to belong in Britain. But it was his eyes that Harry noticed. He'd seen them before, on a Hungarian Horntail. That was not a comparison full of prospects. Seeing where Harry's attention lied, Remus introduced his companion, as unnecessary as that was. Harry knew from the moment he clapped eyes on him that it was Luca.

"Hello, Harry, it's nice to finally meet you," Luca greeted, his accent thick. Harry nodded his hello and turned his gaze back towards his plate. Dumbledore, noticing this, broke in. "We'll all have enough time to discuss business after our meals. Right now, lets simply enjoy each other's company, shall we?" It all proceeded amiably from there. Sirius and Hermione kept asking whether Harry was feeling well until he finally had to do something to stop there pestering. And then he looked across the table and saw Professor Snape, sullenly moving the food on his plate back and forth, obviously not enjoying Lupin's and Luca's conversation on river trolls, Dumbledore's and Minerva's chat about updating school brooms, Fred's and George's whispers about the Dursleys, or Ron's and Ginny's argument with Mrs. Weasley about Fred and George's whispers about the Dursleys. 

"I wanted to thank you, Professor Snape, for saving my life earlier," said Harry, loudly enough to interrupt the constant stream of nagging from Sirius and Hermione but quietly enough so the whole table didn't hear. Snape snapped his head up in attention and stared at Harry's face for a good long while, as if deciding on which nasty comeback to use. Harry was expecting, "Yes, well Potter, don't get used to it," or something along those lines. What he wasn't expecting was the simple "You're welcome," that issued from the Potions master's mouth, before the professor resumed the prodding of his food. The shock at this response was enough to silence Sirius and Hermione, and Harry took this opportunity to glance at the Dursleys, who had been eating in silence at the table furthest from the witches and wizards.

"It should be any moment now," whispered Fred. But hearing one of the Weasley twins whispering alerted all at that end of the table, and soon everyone was staring at the Dursleys, waiting for some type of an explosion. 

"What is it?" asked Luca, obviously confused.

"Just wait," whispered Lupin, a real Marauder's grin on his face. And then it happened. As Dudley reached for the plate of chippolatas, the sausages exploded in a rainbow of dazzling fireworks, a myriad colors almost blinding to look at. "That's just for the shock needed," whispered George, hinting that there was more to come. And indeed there was. As the Dursleys rose from the table, backing away from the sparks and looking either too dazzled or petrified to run away, Dudley started hiccuping, and was soon followed by Vernon and Petunia Dursley. "Here it goes," warned Fred. Harry noticed that the goblets of pumpkin juice had vanished, replaced by a jug in the center of the table. Mr. Dursley, not seeing any change, cautiously approached the table, trying to avoid his clothes being set afire by the fireworks display, and poured glasses for the entire family, still hiccuping and awe struck. As soon as the potion hit their lips, Harry burst into stitches. His Aunt Petunia was now a fat, homely nag. Uncle Vernon had turned into a hideous, and rather smelly, mountain troll. And Dudley, true to character, was the fattest hog Hogwarts had ever seen.

"Fred and George Weasley, you put those Muggles back this instant!" scolded Mrs. Weasley, failing to control the level of amusement in her voice as the pig Dudley waddled up onto the table top and started devouring the remnants of the food, while the troll Mr. Dursley plopped down onto the floor and began picking his nose. Mrs. Dursley simply started grazing off of the crumbs beneath the table.

"Unfortunately, the Actualis Potion will wear off within the hour as it is," answered Snape, who was doing just fine hiding his smile, since he'd been practicing this poker face for decades.

"As entertaining as this is, children, I must insist that you all return to the Gryffindor common room while we have a discussion. Hopefully, the Dursleys won't do to much damage," added Dumbledore.

Harry, for once in his life, wished that he could go with Dumbledore and the others rather than take his mind off things with a round of wizard chess with Ron, but that was what he was stuck doing as Lupin and Snape argued over the possibility that Luca would have to bite Harry. While Ron's bishop mercilessly beat one of Harry's pawns over the head, Hermione and Ginny could be heard giggling in the corner.

"What are you two talking about then?" asked Ron, finally stopping the bludgeoning on the board.

"Luca," answered Ginny, with a blush on her face that Harry thought was reserved for him alone. _But what do I care about who she blushes for_? 

"He's rather tan for a vampire," observed Harry.

"And rather sexy as well," put in Hermione, sneaking a playful glance at Ron, who was floundering for air like a puffer fish, clearly about to explode.

"Excuse me?" he bellowed, causing a mighty BANG from the twins' game of Exploding Snaps.

"Oh, come off it Ron," scolded Ginny. "You don't exactly have that dark and mysterious look."

"And as far as tastes go, you have to admit that Hermione's have definitely improved," added Harry, trying desperately to keep his sides from bursting for laughter. "After all, it wasn't too long ago that our little Hermione had a thing for Lockhart."

"That git?!" This was George, who had given up on Exploding Snaps once one of his eyebrows had been singed. "You actually fancied Professor I-Smile-So-Much-So-I-Can't-Speak-And-Let-On-That-I'm-The-Stupidest-Bugger-In-Britain?"

Hermione's embarrassment was almost equal to Ron's anger now and it seemed to be at about breaking point when there was a soft tapping heard from the door.

"Who could that be?" asked Ginny, regaining her composure after falling off the sofa in giggles. 

"Maybe it's Hermione's vampire friend," grumbled Ron.

"I don't think Luca would be coming here for Hermione," Harry grumbled in turn, before approaching the back of the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Harry, it might not be safe to open it," cautioned Hermione.

"I doubt that a Death Eater could get past all of the security measures outside only to be stumped by a painting." With that, Harry opened the portrait and met one of the biggest shocks of his life: Dudley Dursley. The potion had obviously worn off, but just the memory of it sent nearly everyone in the room into a fit of laughter, once getting over the surprise of seeing Harry's cousin unaccompanied, roaming about Hogwarts halls.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, shushing the others. Dudley looked frightened to say anything, but pulled up some of that expertise at being the most spoiled child in the world and answered, "I was bored and Mum and Dad are still…not themselves. I heard your voices and I wanted to ask you where the TVs are." This stumped the wizard-born occupants of the Gryffindor common room, but Hermione and Harry appreciated the joke greatly. 

"There are no televisions in Hogwarts," answered Hermione matter-of-factly. "The magic interferes with Muggle technology."

Harry couldn't help but notice the tremble in Dudley's lip at the mention of the two M words, and an unwelcome twinge of guilt pulled at Harry's thoughts. Just because his cousin was the worst twit he'd ever known didn't mean that he deserved all of the torture he's been put through since his arrival (_Well, he does deserve it really, and if he wants torture he should think about what I've been through, but…)_. 

"You can come in if you want to," said Harry, upset that his good side got the better of him yet again. But this touch of compassion didn't mean that he'd help his porky cousin get through the portrait. They all watched that struggle with due amusement.

"How long until Mum and Dad are normal again?" Dudley asked, huffing and puffing as he sat down three seats away from anyone else.

"I doubt they've ever been normal, but they'll be back to their old rotten selves again within the hour," answered Fred, still getting over the shock that Dudley wasn't hiding behind a piece of furniture or holding onto his back side for safety.

"Is all that stuff you said earlier true?" asked Dudley, after silently watching Harry and Ron's chess game for a few minutes, gasping every time a piece moved on its own.

"Which part?" asked Harry absentmindedly, focusing more on a plan he had to take Ron's queen in two moves.

"About you being a powerful wizard and maybe a vampire?" At this, Fred, George and Ginny perked up. Harry had asked Ron and Hermione not to tell them about the possibility that the only way he could fight the Blood Stone was by becoming a vampire. Right now, they only knew that Luca was at Hogwarts to counsel Lupin and Dumbledore on how to fight mental attacks.

"Possibly and possibly on both accounts," grumbled Harry, avoiding eye contact with the other Weasleys in the room.

"What do you mean, possibly?" asked Fred. "Ron, what's he on about?"

"Well, it's possible that the only way to stop the attacks from the Blood Stone, apart from destroying it, is to become a vampire," answered Harry, rushing through the last words and plastering an unconvincing look of indifference on his face.

"You mean that Luca bloke might be here to…" said Ginny, unable to complete the question.

"Don't worry about it," scolded Harry sternly, in part because he didn't want to even think about the possibility, in part because Dudley was getting some kind of sick satisfaction at seeing the fear in Harry's face. "You're noticing that the spells I was saying this afternoon were Welsh might help my tutoring along and maybe we won't even need to destroy the Blood Stone."

"It seems to me that such a almighty powerful wizard wouldn't have to worry about some rock," sneered Dudley, more brave now that none of the people around him seemed to be in possession of their wands. Of course, he didn't know that Harry's new talent included being able to do several spells without the aid of a wand.

"_Expecto patronum_," he whispered, his open palm facing Dudley, not even conscious of any effort on his part to concentrate on a happy memory. And he wasn't even surprised when the familiar silvery echo of his father's animagus form issued from his hand and charged at Dudley. The boy was too frightened to move, and remained rigid, jaw to the floor and eyes wide in terror, as the stag ran through his body, then turned about, snorted with disgust, and disappeared as Harry moved his hand to take Ron's queen with his rook. 

"How did you do that?!" Ron exclaimed, tearing his eyes away from the still immobilized Dudley Dursley and looking at Harry in wonder. He had been impressed enough that Harry could manage a Patronus with a wand, since that is highly advanced magic that even Percy could not do. But conjuring one so effortlessly, without a wand at that, was beyond anything Ron had expected from his classmate, even the Boy Who Lived.

"Well, you left your queen wide open when you moved your knight," Harry answered, obviously pleased at having the rare upper hand at a chess game with Ron. The patronus was already forgotten.

"I think he means how did you do **that**?" Hermione clarified, pointing at the now passed-out mass of fat on the chair in the corner.

Finally realizing just what had happened, Harry hastily stood up, no longer caring that he was three moves away from checkmate. "I should go tell Lupin," he answered, making towards the portrait. "We'll all go," entered Fred, not wanting to miss something else. They all clambered out of the common room, leaving Dudley without a backward glance, and made their way towards Dumbledore's office ("Canary Creams"), purposefully making enough racket on the stairs to announce their arrival. 

"What's happened?" asked a worried Sirius, opening the door to the office to greet them. The staff had just finished talking to Arthur Weasley via the fireplace. Mr. Weasley had found a handful of supporters in South Florida ("There's such an abundance of elderly people there and they all drive Muggle automobiles so badly that it's a wonder no one has found them out!") and else where and would be returning with them in the morning. Talks had then moved on to Luca's limited knowledge about the origins of the Blood Stone and Dumbledore's slightly greater knowledge of an ancient Welsh manuscript that could be related to Aglaia Gryffindor's powers when Lupin heard Fred Weasley's proud laugh at having one of the twins' inventions being Dumbledore's password. Sirius couldn't help but be worried that something else had happened to Harry.

"Nothing's happened, Sirius, "comforted Harry, taking the seat that Dumbledore offered. "Well, something's happened but nothing fatal."

"Harry set his Patronus loose on Dudley," informed Hermione, sneaking a look at Luca, who looked even sexier in firelight.

"We've known that he had that ability for a while now," snapped Snape, annoyed that the meeting had been interrupted, that these children knew the password to the headmaster's office, that he hadn't mastered the Patronus charm until his seventh year.

"Yes, but he did it without a wand, without even thinking, while managing to take my queen in a game of chess," answered Ron, the pride in his voice obvious.

"Is this true?" asked Dumbledore. He had expected Harry's power to double by the time he graduated from Hogwarts, but this was beyond his expectations. At this rate, Harry would be as powerful as he was within months, and this was not something that they should be grateful for. Granted, Harry had a good enough heart, but so much power in one so young could be intoxicating and dangerous without a disciplined mind. He'd be tempted to fight battles that a boy his age shouldn't be asked to fight. Besides that, it would make the target on Harry's head grow exponentially.

"Yes," answered Harry, a sinking feeling giving him the same thoughts as Dumbledore. "I'm sorry about losing my temper with him. It's just that I have a lot on my mind," he added, shooting a glance at Luca, and not to admire the vampires striking features.

"That's understandable," replied Dumbledore. "Did the boy survive the fright?"

"He fainted," laughed George, earning a stern look from Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry, can you describe the process of casting the charm?" asked Lupin.

"I suppose so. Dudley teased me about worrying about a stupid rock, I got annoyed, I opened my hand and said the charm and then returned my attention to the chessboard. The Patronus went away when I moved my hand to take Ron's queen. I probably could have ordered my piece to do it on its own, but it isn't every day I get an advantage playing Ron. And that's it."

Ron beamed at the complement, but Lupin still looked concerned. "You didn't concentrate on a happy memory?"

"I might have thought of something, but I didn't put much effort into it. It's not like Dudley is a Dementor."

They were all silent for a while, not knowing what to say. Harry finally grew weary of the quiet. "Did you find the Dursleys a house?" he asked Professor McGonagall, who was startled by the sudden derailment of her train of thoughts.

"Yes, actually, but we need one of them to come with us tomorrow and settle things. That is assuming they are human again?" she answered, looking pointedly at the Weasley twins.

"They should be," Fred answered. "Unfotunately."

"They will be staying here for a little while longer, though," added Dumbledore. "We'll tell them that the house needs renovations. In the meantime, we must discuss an owl a received shortly before dinner. It seems that one of your fellow students has a need to stay at Hogwarts for the remainder of the summer while his family is out of country. And in the present circumstances, I'm sure we'd all feel better keeping an eye on him."

"Who?" asked Harry, upset that it wouldn't be Cho Chang but looking forward to another friend in the castle.

"Draco Malfoy."


	16. Sixteen

****

Sorry for all the typos and ramblings and such…I think I've made things a wee bit complicated so I'll have to take some time to sort this ever-expanding plot out, before it all falls apart! Thanks to all of you NICE DECENT KIND THOUGHTFUL people who review, hexes on those who don't (but I rarely review either, so I guess I can't get too upset) and whoever has me on their Author Alert, I love you! 

Chapter Sixteen

"You're joking!" chorused Ron, Fred and George Weasley. The thought of having to put up with both Draco Malfoy and the Dursleys was frankly revolting.

"I'm afraid I am not," answered Dumbledore, whose face also conveyed the thought that this would not be the best summer of his life.

"Sir, do you think it's wise to have Malfoy around here now, with all that's going on?" asked Harry.

"I agree with Potter," Snape chimed in, his face contorting under the strain of saying that one simple sentence. "At the very least, Arthur Weasley should keep his new friends in Hogsmeade. We don't want Malfoy running off to his new master with information on the Resistance."

"Yes, I'll tell Arthur to take up rooms at the Three Broomsticks. Molly, you're welcome to join him there with the children, if you prefer."

"I'd rather leave the kids here with Harry. Merlin knows I'd rather send the two trouble makers home, but I think Harry will need some friendly faces around," answered Mrs. Weasley, much to Harry's relief.

"You should stick Malfoy in with them Muggles," suggested Hagrid. "If 'e 'ates Muggles so much, you ought give him a reason to."

"I don't understand why he needs to come here," broke in Hermione. "His parents never leave him anywhere, and if they had to, I'm sure they could afford someone to watch him. There must be some motive behind this."

"Maybe he wants a rematch at Quidditch," mumbled Ron. "No doubt he could use the practice."

"Be that as it may," Professor McGonagall interrupted, "Mr. Malfoy will be arriving in the morning and you're all to keep your wands to yourselves. That includes you, Potter, and your new powers."

"You'd best keep an eye on him," suggested Sirius. "His time in Hogwarts will be up soon enough, but any reason to expel him beforehand will be much simpler."

"Now we need to speak to Harry privately," announced Dumbledore. "So if you'll all go back to the Gryffindor rooms, it would be much appreciated. And someone please take Harry's relatives back to their quarters as soon as they are human again?"

Harry waved goodbye to his friends and turned back to the inevitable discussion that he was now not so keen on being part of. "Harry," began Remus Lupin in a tone that did not hide the fact that this was not going to be a pleasant chat. "There are some options we need to discuss with you. We aren't going to make any decisions on this matter without your involvement, rest assured, so we really need to talk about all of the choices."

"You know about the Blood Stone and the known ways to stop it. Unfortunately, Luca can't add to our pool of knowledge on that front, but he is willing to destroy the Stone for us if we can get our hands on it, as only a vampire can crack its surfaces. He would also help on…the other issue, should it come to that." Lupin looked decidedly uncomfortable at the thought of Harry becoming a monster. "On the other hand, no one properly knows if Aglaia's legacy would allow you to block the Stone's power, and Professor Dumbledore has located a text that might be able to help our lessons along. You could choose to concentrate on that route."

"And if I don't?" asked Harry.

"Well, we'd might try a Freezing Charm on you, to make Voldemort think you're dead. We'd have to hide you from Draco Malfoy. But there's no telling when we could lift the charm or even if Voldemort would be fooled by it."

"So, I can either be frozen until the war's over and Voldemort is gone, given that the charm even works. Or I can study up on a Welsh text, hoping that the next attack won't finish me off. Or I can turn into a vampire," Harry summarized, ticking off his limited options on his fingers.

"Basically, yes," answered Sirius, looking ill at the thought.

"So I could be frozen for who knows how long, and Voldemort could still use the Blood Stone on anyone else in this room, Luca excluded. And I wouldn't be able to help. Or I could stay awake, with the possibility that the Stone will get control next time and I'll hurt someone rather badly, and Professor Snape will either be killed or forced out of his spy role. Or Professor Snape will have to put his neck on the line to find the stone, which he might have to do anyway regardless what happens to me, and I know that he's not exactly looking forward to that prospect. Or I can turn into a vampire."

"Yes," whimpered Professor McGonagall. Snape looked ill at having his bad luck spelled out for him.

"And you want me to choose one of these cheery options, do you?" asked Harry, not trying to hide the bitterness in his voice.

"Yes," answered a grave Dumbledore. Harry sat in silence for a few minutes, petting Fawkes, who had landed on his knee and was singing his Phoenix song, trying to boost Harry's courage. Harry wished Hermione hadn't been asked to leave. She would likely have some logical reason behind each scenario.

"Do you want my decision now, or can it wait until morning?"

Lupin looked around at his other colleagues before telling Harry that he needed an answer for them by breakfast, and with that, Harry said goodnight to everyone, including a weary Professor Snape, and returned to the common room, determined to get Hermione's advice.

"They can't make you decide!" Hermione shrieked, once Harry pulled her aside and spelled out all of the options for him. "It's just cruel!"

"Thanks, Hermione, well spotted. But I do have to choose, Dumbledore said so himself, so why don't you help me instead of shrieking in my ear, because I have a decidedly BAD head ache at the moment."

"Wouldn't you rather ask Ron to help?" she asked, and Harry couldn't tell is she was more eager to get out of the responsibility or if she was more elated that Harry had turned to her for help. It was understood that, though Harry would do anything for Hermione, Ron was his best friend.

"No, he'd tell me to do whatever is easiest for me. He wouldn't think it out. I want to do the right thing, regardless what that means for me. And he wouldn't consider Snape's demise as a really bad thing, while we both know better. So I suppose you'd be more help in this." Hermione looked like she was going to burst into tears or, worse, hug Harry. But she just sat back on the couch and set to thinking it through.

"I don't think Snape will be able to get out of finding the stone and destroying it, no matter what you do. You were right about the stone, Voldemort could use it on anyone and I'm actually surprised that he hasn't tried it on Dumbledore. Perhaps there's some connection between you two that makes it easier for him to get to you," she suggested.

"Probably," Harry agreed. "He did leave some of himself in my scar. And he has some of my blood as well. As revolting as that sounds."

"Yes, well, Professor Snape, or somebody else, will have to get the stone. So that one problem is solved, even if it's dangerous for Snape. But for him to get anywhere near it, Voldemort will have to keep him on, which means he needs to think you're dead, which means you'll need to seem dead. I might be able to find something better than a simple Freezing Charm in the library that'll have that effect. I'm surprised Snape couldn't think of a potion."

They both sat silent for a while, watching Ron across the room, whispering to the twins about plans for war against Draco Malfoy.

"Hermione, how much do you know about Polyjuice Potion?" Harry asked, having a sudden inspiration that made him even queasier than before.

"Well, as much as you I suspect. Ingredients, results, it originated in 1107 in Wales, developed by Arsenius Jigger."

"What do you know about the principle behind it, though? How much of the other person's body to you take on? I know we kept our personalities, but is that all we keep?"

Realization dawned on Hermione's face, and she looked as queasy as Harry felt. "Harry, you can't ask someone to take your place! You'll still be here as well, and then Voldemort would know something was wrong for sure!"

"I wasn't planning on remaining myself, you know. I have to go talk to someone. Thanks for your help, Hermione," he said, rushing through the portrait before she had a chance to yell after him.

"Where's Harry going then?" Ron asked, joining Hermione on the couch.

"I have no idea," she answered, then joined the Anti-Malfoy Movement in the corner of the common room.

@@@

Harry would never have thought he'd be voluntarily knocking at the dungeon door leading to Snape's office, hoping the Potions master was in. And judging the look on Snape's face when he saw Harry Potter at the door in the wee hours of the night said he never expected it either.

"What is it, Potter?" Snape snapped, forgetting in his tiredness that Harry held the decision-making power to send him to his doom.

"Sir," Harry began, fighting the urge to kick the man in the shin, "I need to ask you about a potion." This was the last thing Snape had been expecting Potter to say, but then, his expectations had been pretty worthless this summer so far.

Moving aside, he let Harry into his office, pointing out a chair for the boy, and sat behind his desk, his fail-safe sneer firmly affixed to his face. "Well?" he asked when Harry seemed hesitant.

"How much of ourselves to we retain when we take Polyjuice potion?" Harry blurted out, having little doubt that Snape would dismiss his idea as rubbish and laugh him out of the dungeons at once.

"Why do you want to know?" Snape asked, drilling his black eyes into Harry's, trying to read where the conversation is going.

"I'll tell you as soon as you answer my question," Harry snapped, barely believing his own gall, but continuing on. "Is the personality the only thing we hang on to, or is there more to it?"

Snape, despite boiling blood at Harry's impudence, answered as best he could. "You have the same personality, the same memories, a conscience and soul, if you believe in such things, but all of your physical traits become the traits of whoever you transform into. Now tell me what this is about!"

"I was wondering if Voldemort could use the Blood Stone against me if I'm someone else. I don't know how exactly the Blood Stone and Polyjuice Potion work, but if the stone concentrates on the physical part of my brain, would becoming someone else make a difference?"

Snape was floored. Why hadn't anyone else, anyone but Harry Potter, thought of this? Of course, it might not work; he'd have to ask Luca about the fine points behind the BloodStone…

"And who are you planning to become?"

"You."

@@@

"What?!" everyone in Dumbledore's office screamed once Harry explained his idea. Everyone, that is, except Snape, who was sitting in his chair furthest from Sirius, wondering if, given permission, he and Harry could pull this off. He and Harry. That mere pairing was so unnatural to Snape's thought process that he could barely suppress a shiver. 

It was morning and, after a rather quiet breakfast, except a brief shouting match between Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley over the scheduled trip back to Little Whinging with the Dursleys to look over the lease of a possible house, Harry had joined the staff in Dumbledore's office and described the plan he had concocted last night.

"Run that by me one more time," Sirius demanded, obviously not hearing right. Harry could not have just suggested what he just did.

Harry sighed and repeated his idea. "If I take the Polyjuice Potion, my physical self will change into some one else's. Now, it's possible that the mind I take with me will still be connected to Voldemort's Blood Stone, despite my brain disappearing, but Luca thinks that the stone picks up on a frequency unique to my brain, not my mind or conscience or whatever it is. Also, you'd have to wonder why Voldemort is using the stone on me, if he could use it on anyone else. And the probable answer to that is he **can't** use it on anyone else as things stand now, because he'd have used it on Dumbledore or someone more important than me, no matter what grudge he has against me. And maybe he can use it against me, despite the distance between us, because of the connection we have. He left me this scar and I gave him my blood, but if I'm someone else, it could change all that."

"Yes, that makes since, but the rest of it?" broke in Lupin.

"You could become anyone, why Snape?" Sirius growled. For some reason, Sirius sounded more upset about this transformation than when he thought Harry might have to become a vampire. From his corner, Snape glared at Sirius.

"Just hear me out," Harry requested. "Professor Snape would have to get the stone away from Voldemort regardless what happens to me. It doesn't matter that Voldemort might not be able to use it on anyone else at the moment, it's still a dangerous thing for him to have, with all of the vampires he's recruited that can use the Blood Stone properly if in the presence of anyone in this room."

"Yes, and he could take care of that himself," suggested McGonagall. 

"But I know where the stone is," protested Harry. "I saw it during the last attack."

"You can just tell him where it is," said Mr. Weasley, who had returned to England and left the new recruits in Hogsmeade to attend this meeting.

"Professor Snape is needed here. He needs to make Remus his Wolfsbane by the end of the week, he needs to help with security around the castle now that Voldemort will know that perimeter defenses, and if you want a back up plan, he could even go with me to the Death Eater meeting. Malfoy will be here in an hour, and no doubt he'll be called as well. Professor Snape could become him if you think it necessary."

"But I don't understand!" barked Sirius, rubbing his temples, annoyed at having to talk his godson out of a dangerous idea. "You say Snape is needed here, then you suggest he come with you. So that's not the real reason why he can't get the Stone himself. Now, the Polyjuice was a good idea, Harry, but this…why don't you want Snape to handle the stone on his own?"

"Because it's dangerous!" Harry yelled.

Until then, Dumbledore had been silently listening to the arguments, but now he spoke up. "Harry, it would be dangerous for you too."

"Because it's my job," was Harry's second, quieter answer.

"Bollocks to that!" yelled Lupin, loosing his calm once again. "Harry, just because Voldemort killed your parents, just because you've always been a brave young man, a hero, doesn't mean that this is your fight alone. You don't have to save the bloody world! You're just a boy!"

Harry was about to respond to this, when Snape finally spoke up. "Whatever Harry might be saying now, those are not the reasons he gave me last night. I do believe he's trying to spare me my honor, but at this rate, you'll never give him a chance. Lupin, Harry isn't looking to be a hero here. The simple fact is that he knows I'm not the man for the job, that he is. I may be able to withstand the Cruciatus curse a few times a month, I may be able to hold my own in the presence of the Dark Lord, but I could never defeat him alone, should it come down to a duel. But Harry could. If he takes the potion now, he'll probably be able to stay here a few more days until the next meeting, giving him time to develop the new powers. Knowing him, he'd master it by then. And when he is called, he will use the knowledge I give him to attend the meeting, then he will go off and find the stone, and use a port key to come back with it to Hogwarts."

Dumbledore considered all of this and nodded his head in agreement, answered by howls of anger and disapproval from the others in the office. 

"Albus, surely you don't agree with this?" asked a sputtering McGonagall, Mrs. Weasley nodding along with her, too stunned for words.

Lupin and Mr. Weasley were muttering that it was insane, too dangerous, etc. Sirius, however, took a more volatile approach.

"You put him up to this, Snape?" he yelled, rounding on the Potions master. "I've always took you for a coward, but sending a boy to do your duty, that's just pathetic." Snape stood up then but, before it could come to blows, Harry jumped between the two men, holding both arms outstretched at his side, thus sending both men flying back into their seats. "Wow," whispered an awed Hagrid.

"Sirius, may I remind you that Professor Snape saved my life yesterday?" said Harry, a maturity and authority in his voice that no one had ever heard from him before. For a moment, Lupin thought he was hearing Dumbledore speak. "He has also faced Voldemort at great risk to himself and he knows that, whatever the outcome of this mission, he will be a marked man. Cowardice is not one of the characteristics of this man, and you should know that. Now I suggest that you all ready yourselves for Draco Malfoy's arrival. He's not to see anything of our plans, and once I've taken the potion, Professor Snape will have to remain in out of sight. Professor McGonagall will have to make sure that the Dursleys are moved into their new house. They all need to be out of here before Malfoy sees them. Tell them that I've died, they won't care to ask how. Hopefully, we'll have to alter their memories at a later date to correct that misinformation. Mrs. Weasley will have to see to my funeral arrangements. Voldemort will be expecting the wizard world to mourn me. He might think that you'd want to keep it quiet, so you might want to speak to Hermione. She has a special arrangement with Rita Skeeter. She could write that Hogwarts tried to deny it but finally admitted that I've died. Professor Dumbledore, you might want to take this opportunity to convince the public of Voldemort's return, or you might say that it was an accident. Sirius, work on the defenses using my invisibility cloak. I'd be surprised if Wormtail hasn't given a detailed description of your animagus form to all the new Death Eaters and we can't risk Malfoy recognizing you, however unlikely that seems. Professor Lupin, I'll meet you in your office once I've taken the potion and we'll start the lessons. Now, Professor Snape and I have to go to the potion lab to finish the Polyjuice. Will someone please speak to Ron and the others?" With that, Harry and a shocked Snape left Dumbledore's office, effectively adjourning the meeting and leaving behind several stunned wizards and witches.

After several silent minutes, they all jumped into action, Sirius voicing the thought in everyone's mind: "Are you sure that boy isn't a relative of yours, Dumbledore?"

****

So that's that! Didn't Harry show all them little people? Ok, everyone but Luca (where'd he go, oh, there he is, he's a shy one, sorry) belongs to Madam Rowling. Of course, I'm carrying Lupin's love child, so he's mine too. Anyone who's looking for more Lupin, I might be putting up a romance with him a little later. Don't worry, Draco will be around some to smarm up to Ginny, and the Dursleys aren't out of the picture yet, so don't get yer knickers in a twist. REVIEW! Or I kill you 'til you die from it!


	17. Seventeen

A/N: Sorry ****

A/N: Sorry! Don't hate me! I've been a bit busy and blocked and bothered, but that's no excuse (ok, it's no good excuse). This chapter drags some, be warned, but I thought I'd give it to you anyway because it's been ages. You know the drill, every proper noun is Madam Rowling's, but Lupin is all mine! 

Chapter Seventeen

Draco Malfoy was escorted into Hogwarts, much to his disgust, by Hagrid. Upon entering the Great Hall, he was nearly trampled by a crying Ginny Weasley, who pushed her way past him as she ran up to the Gryffindor common room. Seeing Ron and Hermione staring after, with equally dejected looks upon their faces, filled Draco with a kind of delight that only comes with witnessing human suffering. "What's the matter, Weasel?" he drawled. "Your parents finally break the news to her that they can't afford her?"

Ron looked ready to lunge at Draco, but Lupin, who had just finished explaining the situation to Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins, grabbed hold of his collar before he get into any trouble.

"Well, well, Werewolf, trolling around the school for extra money before going back to the woods?" Draco sneered, surprised that his ex-professor was back at Hogwarts.

"I had come back to tutor Harry," Lupin answered, the calm back in his voice now that he had an agenda to follow.

"What, did Potter prove to stupid to understand you?" SMACK! Draco's face was tinged scarlet by Hermione's powerful backhand.

"Granger!" yelled Snape, who had just entered the Great Hall. "Detention!"

"Now, Severus, I don't think…" began Lupin, still holding onto Ron's shirt.

"Excuse me, Lupin, but I believe I have more authority in this school than you," sneered Snape. Then he took notice of Draco, who had been smiling smugly since the Potions master had arrived. "Malfoy, I trust you had a pleasant holiday?" 

"Yes, sir, I was just going to comment on Potter…" SMACK! Lupin had prematurely let go of Ron's shirt and Draco found himself with another palm print on his ivory face.

"Weasley! You can join Granger in detention as well. Now! In my office!" bellowed Snape as he turned to retreat into the dungeons. Hermione and Ron followed behind, leaving a snickering Draco and a repulsed Remus Lupin. The three went silently down into the dungeons, bumping into Peeves before entering Snape's office.

"Now, what to do with you?" began Snape, flashing them an eerie smile.

"Professor, I," stuttered Hermione, before being cut off by the most shocking sound she'd ever heard: a genuine laugh coming from Severus Snape.

"You can stop with the 'Professor' stuff, Hermione. Snape's moved into Trelawney's room until this is over," laughed Harry, amused though somewhat disturbed that he had done such a wonderfully convincing turn as Professor Snape.

"Harry?!" Ron and Hermione both exclaimed, hardly believing it. "Lord, Harry, you're even worse than the real Snape!" whispered Ron, reminding himself never to get on his best friend's bad side.

"Harry, I can't believe they agreed to let you do this," was what Hermione had to say. "You do realize that you'll have to actually stand before You-Know-Who, don't you?"

"Yes, I realized that, thanks very much Hermione," Harry sighed. "Hey, do you think it would be too suspicious if I took a shower? This greasy hair feels disgusting."

"Ugh," moaned Ron. "Snape in a shower. Now you'll know what he looks like naked."

All three shuddered at the thought. "Maybe I won't take a shower," said Harry. "Where's Ginny and the twins?"

"Well, since the Dursleys' things aren't going to be sent to the new house until all of the arrangements are made, the twins are hexing everything they can get hold of, though I don't know how they got hold of the Hufflepuff password," answered Hermione, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Hermione! I'm shocked," beamed Ron.

"And what about Ginny?" asked Harry, still not used to hearing Snape's voice coming out of his mouth. 

"Well, she didn't take the news so well," stammered Ron, torn between accurately reporting to his best friend and sparing his sister from the embarrassment. Of course, being a Weasley through and through, Ginny lost. "Actually, she took off running when she heard what you were planning to do."

"You ought to go talk to her, Harry," advised Hermione.

"Maybe, once I'm done with Lupin."

@@@

Lupin almost slammed his office door in Snape's face before he remembered that Harry was to meet him for lessons after he had taken the potion. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I don't know if I'll be able to act the same around you when you look like that," Remus admitted, still shaken by the sight of Snape smiling and laughing without a hint of malice.

"I know, I walked past a suit of armor and caught my reflection, nearly gave myself a heart attack," laughed Harry. "I also wanted to apologize for what I said earlier in the Great Hall."

"That was you!?" exclaimed Lupin. "Oh, well done, Harry, well done."

They continued with the lesson, Harry slowly learning how to pronounce the Welsh spells in the text Dumbledore had given them. Once he got the hang of the double letters, however, the magic he was able to produce was simply remarkable. By the end of the hour, Harry could turn invisible at will and, what's more, he could levitate. Granted, his balance was shaky. No charm could help him with that. But once he took Lupin's advice and imagined there was a broomstick beneath him, he was zooming up to the ceiling and banging his head, forgetting he was a foot taller now.

"Well," sighed Lupin, who always felt tired when the full moon was a few days away, "I'd say you've done an excellent job of things, Harry. After lunch we'll come back and work on defensive charms, since those are what you really need to master, in case the Blood Stone isn't fooled by the Polyjuice Potion."

"Or in case it is," reminded Harry. With that, Harry put on his Snape-ish sneer that was trademark when the Potions master was in the presence of Remus Lupin, and the two parted ways, Harry heading up to Trelawney's tower to speak to the real Snape about the guards he had put up around the castle, and Lupin to help Sirius with the inner perimeter security.

@@@

Draco Malfoy was peeved and bored beyond belief. He had come to Hogwarts, despite plans to travel to Europe with Crabbe, to pull off some ill-thought plot of his father's to gain the favor of Lord Voldemort. And now Potter, the stupid prat, had died. And Draco was stuck in the castle with a mudblood, a werewolf, and a bunch of Weasleys. In a brief fire-chat with his father, he was told that leaving the castle now would look too suspicious. 

"Go ahead with the plan as it is," instructed Lucius Malfoy, always quick to think of new and interesting ways to be evil. "That damned Arthur Weasley must be up to something if his children are staying at the school. Planning another raid against me, no doubt. Secure the loyalty of his daughter, I'm sure you have the Malfoy charm when it comes to that and I doubt that filthy, poor redhead has many suitors knocking down her door. And offer to assist Severus Snape in any way you can. May as well start making allies amongst the Death Eaters, and Snape is involved in some of the upper level operations that a young servant to Lord Voldemort, such as yourself, would not normally be trusted with."

Draco had no idea how to win the loyalties of Ginny Weasley. She'd see right through any attempts of his to be civil, if he could even get her alone, with those brute brothers of hers hanging around her for protection. Maybe he could say how sorry he was about Potter kicking the bucket? But how could he keep a straight face? Well, he was sorry that Potter had died; Draco didn't have the chance to kill him. So he could be honest, Draco thought, heading towards the Gryffindor common room.

@@@

"Don't slouch like that, it's unnatural and not fit for my body." Snape and Harry-Snape were in Trelawney's room, which was decidedly different in the absence of heavy incense, large pillows, teacups, and phony death predictions. Instead, there was a makeshift potions lab, complete with a cauldron containing a simmering Wolfsbane Potion.

"How's this for unnatural?" asked Harry, plastering a huge smile on his Snape face. The real Snape looked like he was going to throw up. 

"Too bad your new powers don't extend to your personality," sneered Snape. "Or your potion-making abilities. You are supposed to be slicing the monkshood, not shredding it."

Harry had been helping with Lupin's potion while Snape gave him detailed instructions about the protocol of Death Eater meetings, about the operations he was currently involved with, and potions in general. "Pity you aren't Granger, she's at least competent in this area. Should You-Know-Who test you on your knowledge, you'll be found out for sure."

"Why don't you just continue with the lesson or shut up," growled Harry. Practically being Snape gave him a false sense of confidence that he was very grateful for.

"My, getting uppity with these new powers?" asked Snape, eyes drawn into viscous slits as he looked up from the cauldron.

"You haven't seen uppity," whispered Harry, levitating himself up to the top shelf of the cabinet to retrieve an extra pair of dragon-hide gloves. Upon witnessing this demonstration, Snape returned to his purpose, explaining his current service to Voldemort.

"The last thing he asked me to do was to brew this," he said, pointing to a large vile of violet. "So don't forget to take it when you're called."

"Won't you be called too?" asked Harry, realizing that the Dark Mark was still on Snape's forearm, just as it was on his own.

"While you were with Lupin, the Headmaster and I discussed that. I might be taking some Polyjuice myself, depending on what Moody has to report tonight." The look on his face told Harry that, whoever Snape was thinking of turning into, they weren't very pleasant.

" What are you talking about?"

"Let's just say that the Dark Lord does not like loose ends. And he has no aversion to killing Muggles."

"You mean the Dursleys?"

"Moody is checking with his contacts to see if any orders have been made. If so, I'd be the likely candidate for going to protect them, seeing as that would be the least obvious place for me to hide, as unpleasant as that sounds." Both Harry and Snape were torn between wincing at the thought of being Vernon Dursley for even a minute, and blanching at the realization that they were having a civil conversation. The first choice won out.

"But won't Voldemort know that there's magic at the Dursley's house? Surely he has someone in the Ministry that would alert him to the fact."

"No, Moody is going to be the Secret Keeper for your family, and houses under that spell are unlisted in the Ministry's books. He won't find out. Now back to the matter at hand. I've written down the charms I used on the outer perimeter, so volunteer this information as soon as possible. You'll have to wait for his beginning diatribe about whoever fouled up whatever assignment, as people always do. Then there'll be the speech about Mudbloods and Muggles being worthless, how Voldemort's forces are growing, mentions of new recruits, and pay attention there. May as well take over my duties as spy while you can. Then he'll probably mention your death. Molly is sending out the propaganda as we speak. No doubt he'll take credit for it. He'll want to speak to me then, find out the true story. Once we've spoken to Granger after she's contacted that Skeeter wench, we'll have to decide what you're going to say. You'll need to be aware of the story Molly puts out, the story Skeeter puts out, and some details that no one put out. Molly isn't going to tell the Prophet that you drowned because, after the Second Task last year, no one would believe it. You, however, will tell him that Harry Potter drowned himself. After this you bring up the defenses. Also, I haven't been called since you supposedly went home, so he'll wonder why you were at Hogwarts during the last attack. Be as honest as you can when the truth doesn't matter. No use getting caught in a lie when you can easily admit to being invited here by Dumbledore. But you were not told about where the Dursleys have gone. Only that I saw you drown and you can even say that I tried to save you because I know he had plans for you alive, but it was to no avail. You might get punished for the failure, so be warned and apologize when it's over."

Was Harry imagining things or did Snape sound worried? _Probably because he thinks I'll get caught and he'll be stuck in hiding forever._

Things continued this way until Harry was tired of memorizing ingredients to obscure potions and announced that he was going for lunch. Surprisingly, Snape didn't object. Maybe it's harder to be a complete git when looking at a mirror.

@@@

Being Snape was perhaps most difficult at lunch, under the eye of Draco Malfoy. Sitting up at the staff table, Harry was unable to talk to Ron and Hermione, and being a slightly antisocial professor meant he couldn't strike up a lively conversation with Remus Lupin, or even Dumbledore. So Harry tried his best to alternate between staring at his plate and scowling at Lupin, who was slipping a plate underneath the table for a concealed Padfoot, breaking from his work on Hogwarts' security. Harry was about to give up and visit Hedwig in the owlery when the Great Hall was besieged by hundreds of messenger owls, all heading straight for Albus Dumbledore. Harry nearly burst out laughing when he noticed a fuming howler that had landed on Dumbledore's laugh.

"Oh my, it must have come out," mused Dumbledore, eyeing the howler with a small smile pulling at his lips.

"Better get it over with, Albus," Lupin advised. 

"HOW COULD YOU LET HARRY POTTER DIE?" it screamed, and harry recognized the voice of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.

"MORE TO THE POINT, HOW COULD YOU LET EVERYONE KNOW THAT HE DIED? EXPECTED MORE DIPLOMACY FROM YOU, ALBUS. MY WIFE WAS LISTENING TO THAT WARBECK WOMAN ON WITCHING HOUR WHEN THE NEWS CAME, BURST APPENDIX? WHAT IS THAT? DON'T YOU HAVE A MEDIWITCH AT THAT SCHOOL OF YOURS? AND NOW THAT BLASTED SKEETER WOMAN HAS COME OUT WITH A STORY OF COVER UP, SAYING SOURCES AT HOGWARTS SAY YOU-KNOW-WHO WAS INVOLVED…UTTERLY RIDICULUS, NOW'VE YOU GO AND STARTED A WIDESPREAD PANIC, LANDED YOURSELF IN A BIT OF A SCANDAL I'D SAY, SCHOOL GOVERNORS ARE GOING TO BE UP IN ARMS ABOUT THIS…" 

So this was it? Harry new they'd have to come up with some excuse, but a burst appendix? It did sound far-fetched. Harry was glad that Dumbledore had let it leak that Voldemort was involved. He'd hate to be remembered as The Boy Who Lived Only To Die From A Bad Tummy Ache. No one would ever by that appendix story, so everyone surely believes that Voldemort has returned, right? Harry hoped so. Once the panic subsided, the resistance would be able to get access to more resources, and backing from the ministry, if Fudge ever got past the denial stage, might help them win this war against the dark side.

While the Howler had been going off, Dumbledore had turned his attention to the other letters that had arrived, most of them asking Is it true? Is Harry dead? Is You-Know-Who back? What does he look like? Weeding through the envelopes, Dumbledore pulled out two and handed them to Harry. "Severus, I think you might be interested in these," he said lightly, before leaving the table to return to his office. The first letter was from Chow Chang, Cho's father, relating how distraught his daughter was at the news of Harry's passing and was inquiring over the funeral arrangements. Apparently Cho wished to say some words. Forgetting that he was wearing the Potions master's face, Harry couldn't help but smile at this, hoping that he'd be able to explain to Cho what had happened someday. Then, he looked towards the Gryffindor table and caught sight of Ginny Weasley staring at him, looking like she was about to burst into tears. Not wanting to think about the small jolt in his stomach, Harry moved onto the second message, which was from Mad Eye Moody. The word was out that a squad of Death Eaters had been dispatched to find the Dursleys. "I doubt that they'll be found, with the new house and Fidelius Charm, but we can't spare anyone to guard the muggles what with the new developments, so may as well take care of the situation yourself."

Harry didn't want to be the one to tell Snape that he had to go move in with the Dursleys, no matter how much he disliked the man. He was tempted to give Remus the job, but Harry needed to speak to Snape to decide what he should tell Voldemort about his death, so he excused himself from the table and made towards the doors, only to be met by a very smug Draco Malfoy, no doubt gloating over that howler. 

"Malfoy," Harry nodded in greeting, moving ahead into the hall, only to have Malfoy tag along.

"Sir, is there anything you'd like me to do for you?" Draco asked him, quickening to keep up with Harry's paces.

"I don't think so, Malfoy," Harry answered calmly, using all of his strength to restrain from telling Draco to bugger off. 

"My father thought I might be of some use to you, and our master," Draco persisted, lowering his voice. Harry stopped dead in his tracks. This was the chance to get Malfoy kicked out of Hogwarts for good, but how could he do anything when he was Snape, a supposed Death Eater? 

"You want to keep quiet about such things, Draco," Harry whispered, smiling down at the eager ferret-faced boy. "But if you're set on getting involved, I'll meet you in the Potions lab in an hour. Right now I have business that does not concern a young Death Eater such as yourself." Harry hurried off down the hall, taking the long way to the north tower to make sure that Malfoy didn't follow. Knocking quickly, he climbed up into the Divination room, interrupting Snape, who was still supervising the brewing of Lupin's Wolfsbane.

"I've just been propositioned by Malfoy," Harry began, moving over to the texts on Snape's desk in a last minute attempt to memorize some more complex potions. 

"Yes, the boy does have a certain infatuation with me," said a dead-pan Snape as he added some guano to the cauldron.

"That was a mental picture I did not need," choked out Harry, rubbing his eyes in hopes of forgetting that disturbing image. "I meant, he wants to help you with your master. He's going to meet me in the dungeons in an hour. What should I tell him?"

Snape consulted a sheet of parchment on his desk before giving Harry his answer. "There's a few poisons that You-Know-Who is short on, nothing too difficult for Malfoy. Take this list, it has the instructions on it. I'll speak to Dumbledore about what to do about Draco. He is a trusting man, he might want to change the boy's heart."

"Fat chance," Harry snorted. Malfoy didn't have a decent bone in his body as far as Harry was concerned. "Oh, here's a response from Moody," he said, handing the owl over to Snape. He had a weird urge to welcome him to the family. "So who are you going to be?"

"Come again?" Snape asked, still looking revolted by what he had read.

"Well, you are going to take the place of one of the Dursleys, right? Who?"

"I hadn't thought that far ahead. It'll be difficult to replace anyone without the others noticing. Don't your relatives ever have house guests?"

"Only business partners of my uncle's. And Aunt Marge, but you wouldn't want to be her."

"I don't want to be any of them," Snape sneered.

"Dudley might not be too bad. They treat him like the bloody Queen. You'd only have to get used to the weight, wheezing when you walk up the stairs."

"I'd rather not be a child. What about your uncle?" 

"I don't know how desperate you are, but do you really want to sleep in the same bed as my aunt?" Harry heard Snape growl, which lightened his mood considerably. "Maybe you should be my Aunt Marge, your personalities are the closest I suppose, though you'll have to pretend to like Dudley. Still, she's known for hating me and voicing it quite often, so you'll be spiffing at that."

"I should think so," snarled Snape.

****

Ok, I'm ending it here because I really feel bad about taking so long with this, and I have to mull over a few things before moving on. Thanks for the reviews! Love you all! Ah, my people J 


	18. Eighteen

A/N: Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, might as well go eat worms…insert childish melody here…sorry about that, just looking at the number of reviews this story has received ****

A/N: Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, might as well go eat worms…insert childish melody here…sorry about that, just looking at the number of reviews this story has received. By my calculation, it's less than 1 review for every 500 words…that can't be right! Ok, now that I'm done complaining, I have some groveling to do. I'm SOOOOO sorry this has taken so long. I'd blame it on finally getting my first job (hey, I'm only 20 so it's not super pathetic, right?), but the truth is I've been too busy reading better fan fics (Marvin, where are you?) to actually write this one. And I'm also sorry this chapter is shorter than the others are. I'll work on it. So please review or I'm giving up forever (or another month, and than won't you be sorry mwahaha wait, you won't, because you didn't review…sniffle, oh look, I'm complaining again.)

Chapter Eighteen

"Marge! Here, let me get that bag for you!" greeted Vernon Dursley when a woman with a trace of bovinity in her step came to the door of Number 16, Privet Drive. "What, no Ripper this time Marge?" Vernon asked, noticing that his sister's favorite and meanest bulldog was conspicuously absent. Of course, the whole visit was conspicuous, Marge calling out of the blue and announcing she'd be coming to stay for some time. Then again, Margery Dursley was not exactly the epitome of social grace. Or any grace for that matter.

"Old boy is staying with the Colonel, along with the other pups," answered Severus Snape, slightly concerned that he sounded so authentic in this guise as a beefy Muggle woman. "Now where's my nephew? Ah, there he is, looking as sturdy as ever I see. Come give your Aunt a squeeze!"

It was hard to believe that Snape had only left Hogwarts last night, after a brief but intense training session on how to be Aunt Marge, which entailed spoiling Dudley Dursley rotten, badmouthing Harry Potter at every turn, enjoying a fine bourbon, and relating hideously boring stories about her beloved bulldogs. After leaving the school, Snape met Moody at Marge's country house. Throwing the Muggle Protection Act out the window, they had to use two stunning spells, heifer that she was, but soon the Polyjuice Potion was ready and Snape had tucked away enough spare hair to last the rest of the summer. _God willing, it won't come to that_.

"Come get off your feet, Marge" greeted Petunia Dursley, leading Snape by his elbow into the sitting room. 

"You lot certainly rushed into this move," Snape observed, trying to sound as ignorant of the truth as he could. "I hope you weren't taken on the deal."

"Oh no," Vernon answered, unable to hide the anxiety in his face as he too tried to sound ignorant of the truth. "House came with the promotion at Grunnings," he muttered, hoping that Marge didn't remember that there was no more room for Vernon to be promoted up. And, of course, Snape didn't notice at all.

"And where is that boy?" Snape sneered, enjoying this part of the ruse. He so often had to hold back his contempt for Potter and, even if that contempt had shrunk to a more reasonable level over the first half of the summer, he still loathed the memories the boy held for him. "I want to keep my eye on that one."

"Er, he's pulling a summer term at his school. St. Brutus's," answered Vernon, pale as a sheet. Dudley kept looking between his parents and his aunt, remembering the last time he had seen Marge and the state she had been in.

"Petunia, I do hope you authorized them to use brute force against the little whelp. Nothing but trouble, that boy is. Total disregard for rules, too naïve for his own good." Snape continued his mutterings, oblivious to the fact that the Dursleys had no idea to what he was referring to. But it was so seldom that Snape could have an audible rant about Harry Potter without being threatened by some member of the boy's fan club, and, despite the fact that he was a foul Muggle woman dressed in a small tent and smelling of dog chow, he was rather enjoying himself. 

"I'm sorry to hear about your boyfriend, Weasley," sneered Draco Malfoy, having followed Ginny Weasley out to the owlery. He was supposed to be luring the wretched little muggle-lover in, but he couldn't be too obvious about it. No, he'd have to be subtle, let her think he'd changed his ways to suit her, or some rubbish like that. 

"Bugger off Malfoy," Ginny spat, hastily wiping away the tears from her cheeks. It didn't matter that Harry wasn't really dead; he would be soon enough if he continued on with his charade. 

"You may want to be a bit nicer to me, now that your boy hero is dead. I know you Weasley lot are strapped for money at the moment, and maybe your meal ticket just up and died on you. There are other wealthy wizards at Hogwarts, you know. Ones with a bit more…stamina."

"How dare you?" Ginny gasped, raising her hand to slap Draco but being stopped as Draco grabbed her wrist and pinned her against the wall, swooping done to leave a bruising kiss on her mouth, her first kiss if anyone ever asked.

"Well, I'll leave you with that," Draco said as he broke away, still holding her wrist to prevent her from slapping him, or falling over. "Just think about it, Ginny. It'd be a shame to lose a pure blood witch to the memory of someone like that." With that, Draco headed back towards the castle, failing to notice, as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, that his Potions master was standing in the shadows.

"Ginny?" Harry asked, having also followed the girl out there. The shy redhead gasped as she turned around to face Snape, still thinking about that kiss. 

"Harry? Is that you?" she asked, hoping against hope that it wasn't, that this was all some kind of misunderstanding and that it was Severus Snape, not Harry Potter, that had just witnessed her kissing Draco Malfoy.

"Yes, it's me. Are you alright Ginny?" Harry asked, trying hard to mask his fury at having walked in on that scene.

"No I'm not bloody alright if it's all the same to you!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the walls and perches and ruffling more than a few feathers. "First off, look at yourself! You're going to get yourself killed any day now, and if that wasn't enough, did you see what just happened?"

"I was hoping that I hadn't."

"Malfoy kissed me! That evil little bastard! I don't know what he's playing at, but now, on top of worrying myself sick over you, I have to deal with Malfoy trying to get in my knickers!" Then, realizing what she had said, her face turned the color of her hair as she looked away from Harry, searching for a diversion.

Harry, meanwhile, was blushing as well, but again the reminder that he was Severus Snape's double put restraint on such display of emotion. "Ginny, I wouldn't go into this if I didn't think there was a good chance of making it out alive, and you know that Dumbledore and Sirius wouldn't agree to it either. As for Malfoy, I have no idea what he's up to but you better stay away from him. I shouldn't have to remind you of the kind of person he is, but I have a feeling that somewhere inside you is a voice saying he deserves the chance to prove himself. You're trusting like that, and I won't fault you for it. But please, Ginny, don't let him in your knickers!" Ginny finally giggled at that bit, but let Harry go on, reveling in the fact that this might be the longest conversation she had ever had with him. Pity he looked like a slimy ex-Death Eater. "I'm going to do my best to keep him occupied with other matters, but try to stay close to Ron and the twins, will you? I know they wouldn't let Draco near you."

"You really don't trust him, do you?" asked Ginny, hoping there might be something to this surge of protectiveness other than a hate for all things Malfoy.

"He's a Death Eater, Gin. Unless he convinces me other wise, I don't believe in second chances," answered Harry, sounding grimmer than he ever had before. He had come to comfort Ginny, but at that moment he decided that it was best to leave her be. Saying a quick goodbye, Harry turned back towards the castle, meaning to run into Malfoy and get him started on some innocent potion making to keep him far away from Ginny Weasley. But before he made it into the castle, Harry ran into someone else.

"Ow! Gods, watch where you're going, you prat!" bellowed the thin air right before Harry, or rather _above_ Harry as he had fallen to the ground.

"Sirius?" Harry asked, having forgotten that his godfather was supposed to be reinforcing the security charms around the castle.

"Severus," Sirius mimicked, a little surprised that the Potions master had actually used his first name, rather than spitting out "Black" like a vomit-flavored Bott's bean.

"Actually, it's Harry," Harry whispered, wishing that Sirius hadn't been wearing his Invisibility Cloak at that moment, as he would have witnessed an amusing array of facial expressions at that statement. Harry hadn't had the chance to see his godfather since the transformation.

"Harry?" Sirius groaned, "Oh, I think I'm going to be sick."

"Well don't get anything on my cloak," Harry laughed. "Come on inside, I suppose I'll head to Remus's office now and deal with Malfoy later. You could probably use a break, eh?"

"What do you mean, deal with Malfoy?"

"Long story, I'll tell you inside," Harry grumbled, his mind still replaying that ferret kissing Ginny.

"Go on ahead, I'll be along in a moment. Have a few more charms and then I'll be done with the West Wing."

"Sirius, you do know that we're in front of the East Wing right now, don't you?"

"Shaddup," Sirius growled, before returning to his work. As Harry made his way towards Lupin's room, he couldn't help but think that that had gone better than he had expected, what with Sirius hating Snape with a passion. Lupin, having heard Harry coming down the corridor, already had tea waiting when he let Harry inside. "Sirius is coming too," Harry announced, using his powers to pour his godfather a cup too. 

"You've certainly improved," beamed Lupin, though he was more than a little concerned in the change in Harry's behavior. It was wonderful to see the boy much more self-confident than he had been in his third year, but this progress was too much, too fast. People close to this level of power, men like Dumbledore and even Voldemort, had years to develop it, work on it and appreciate it. If you don't have respect for your abilities, you'll find yourself lost without them. "Harry, how are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, tearing his attention away from the midair acrobatics he had been putting his biscuits through.

"All of this change, this pressure, I was just wondering how you are feeling," Remus clarified, hoping he wasn't sounding too paternal. Although Harry always missed his parents, Remus knew that the boy did not appreciate being mothered.

"I suppose I'm doing as well as could be expected. I should be worried about not being very worried, shouldn't I? I know that I've been through nerve-wracking things before, but you would think that wouldn't make a difference. I didn't expect I'd get used to it. Maybe it's these new abilities. I don't feel so outnumbered now, even though I am. If any of that makes sense. Buggered if I know," Harry mumbled, hoping that Sirius would get here soon and he'd be off the hook. His godfather rarely asked him such questions.

"It makes sense, Harry," Lupin answered, before being interrupted by a rather soggy Sirius Black.

"Blasted rain," Sirius grumbled, taking the tea Lupin offered him and starting in surprise when he was suddenly dry at the flick of Harry's finger. "I wish you'd warn me before you did that," Sirius complained. "What if you'd twitched the wrong finger and I'd end up a hinkypunk?"

"I don't think it works like that," laughed Remus.

"Shut up, Moony," Sirius growled, mentally cheering himself for sitting beside Harry on the sofa. Despite the full knowledge that Severus Snape was no where near Hogwarts, the sight of him still made him a tad uneasy. "So Harry, what were you saying about Malfoy?"

"I caught him kissing Ginny," Harry scowled.

"You mean Ginny and-" Sirius began, before being interrupted by Lupin.

"I hardly think that could have been a mutual kiss, Padfoot."

"She says it wasn't," Harry continued. "Malfoy must be up to something, but that's the least of our worries. I don't think he's a threat to anyone here, except maybe me. He's already asked me if he could help with the cause. Extra credit for Voldemort. Snape told me to have him brew some simple potions, but I think Dumbledore may try to win Malfoy over to our side, if it is possible, which I highly doubt."

"Change is always possible, Harry," whispered Remus. "Don't write Draco Malfoy off because he was bred in the wrong environment. Professor Snape's a good example of what a man can become given the chance."

"Yes, but let's hope Malfoy doesn't turn into a greasy twit like that man," snorted Sirius. "No offense Harry," he added, not wanting to project whatever long-hauled animosity he had for Snape onto his godson. Even if he did look like him.

"None taken," laughed Harry. "Do you think Voldemort would think it suspicious if I got a hair cut, a tan, some soap?"

"He'd think the world has ended," laughed Sirius, his eyes brightening for once. Harry had been worried about the stress his godfather was under. Facing death from both sides of the war. Harry could hardly imagine how he held on. He was just about to inquire about it when he felt a sharp burn on his forearm. It felt so strange, having that feeling of absolute hate scorching his arm rather than his forehead. Looking to the spot that he had avoided since becoming the former Death Eater, out of resentment for what the mark stood for and his wish **not** to wonder if Severus Snape had done anything at all to cause or prevent the death of his parents, he saw that the brand had burnt black.

"It's time," he whispered, hoping that he wasn't really as scared as he sounded.


	19. nineteen

Chapter Nineteen ****

A/n: These people don't belong to me, blah blah. See the bottom for individual thanks and such and such. Sorry this is so short, but I figured that it would be better to post more often and leave you craving for more J 

Chapter Nineteen

"Harry, please, don't go," whispered Sirius. He would have got down on his hands and knees and begged if he thought it would do any good. But Harry was already on his way to the Potion Lab. Snape had instructed him to wait until nightfall before apparating to Voldemort's side, and Harry was to tell Malfoy the same, if he had been called as well. "Being under the eye of Albus Dumbledore is the only accepted excuse for tardiness, short of death," Snape had said, an eerie smile fleeting across his lips, "so if you can find an extra hour, do so. I'm sure there will be things to be said." As Harry continued down to the dungeons, Sirius at his side, he couldn't help but wonder how, or if, Snape was surviving his mission.

***

"Petunia, this kidney pie is delightful. Mostly a quick fry up for me, what with the new batch of pups to deal with. Of course there's something to be said for supper with Colonel Fubster on the odd night but never mind, a bit more brandy Vernon, yes." Severus Snape could kill that old goat called Mad-Eye Moody. He really could. There was no evidence whatsoever that Voldemort or anything more dangerous than a head cold had it out for the Dursleys. All afternoon, Snape had been dragged across London trying to find clothes in Dudley's "husky" size. He had been tempted to just duck out of sight at the Leaky Cauldron as they passed by and maybe blame it on the confusion of the crowd, but alas, there was no crowd, and Snape could only march on, avoiding his reflection in the shop windows. And now, that he was back on Privet Drive, the conversation had once again steered toward the usual topics: bull dogs, drills, Dudley and, of course, Harry Potter. Snape could tell that Vernon and Petunia Dursley would like nothing more than to forget they had a nephew, but for lack of anything better to say and for authenticity, Snape was forced to bring up Harry every time the lull in conversation began to border tension.

"That boy looked like he could use some fattening up last time I saw him. Still a scrawny thing, I dare say?" Snape asked, repressing a shudder at the thick voice coming from his mouth.

"Yes, he's always been gangly," answered Petunia, pride beaming in her eyes as she looked at Dudley piling a mountainous forkful into his mouth.

"And his hair, so unruly, just like his father's. A reflection of his character I dare say," continued Snape.

"But Marge, you've never seen James Potter," reminded Mr. Dursley, refilling Snape's glass.

"I only assumed, given Petunia's fair hair," Snape retorted, an expert at the quick lie. 

"Yes, well, I think that's a safe assumption. There's nothing of Petunia in that boy," growled Vernon.

"Such a pity too," smiled Snape, hoping the sarcasm wouldn't show. It apparently didn't, sarcasm being an alien thing for Marge Dursley. As Snape took another sip of his brandy, he had the strangest sensation on his forearm, a memory of pain. "Well, Harry's on his own now. We'll soon see what he is made of."

"Whatever do you mean, Marge?" Mr. Dursley asked.

"Nothing, Vernon. Now, you were telling me about the new contract at work?"

***

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, sir. I'm in here."

Harry had descended into the dungeons, leaving Sirius and Remus waiting at the stairs. 

"Were you called?"

"Yes, I was just going to finish the potions on this list you left for me before I went," Malfoy answered.

"In the future, you may want to remember that the Dark Lord does not look kindly on tardiness, even with an excuse like that. However, we will not be leaving Hogwarts grounds until tonight."

"I thought you said-"

"We can't very well leave with that meddling Dumbledore buzzing about. We wait until nightfall and we apparate. You do know how to apparate, don't you?" Harry himself didn't really know how to apparate, he just realized. He'd have to remember to ask Remus for some pointers.

"Yes, my father taught me last summer," answered Draco, eager to list the other things his father had so graciously taught him. "Will we leave from Hogsmeade?"

"No, it's too far. Too public. The anti-apparation wards around Hogwarts only reach a few feet above the North Tower. We'll take our broomsticks and apparate from there."

With that, Harry left the dungeons and rejoined Sirius and Remus on the stairs. "Harry, please," Sirius continued.

"Sirius, you know this is the only way," Harry sighed.

"But Harry, it isn't the _only_ way," Remus entered. "There are other paths." 

"And how do they end?" The three of them jumped at the new voice, whirling around to see Dumbledore standing behind them. 

"You probably know better than we do," answered Sirius, for once more bitter about this fact than in awe of it.

"Harry, I'm sure you'd like to see your friends, before you go," Dumbledore continued, choosing not to acknowledge the scowl on Sirius's face.

Harry nodded and headed up to the Gryffindor common room, hoping that Ron and Hermione wouldn't treat this as a last goodbye.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione howled as she threw her arms up around his neck, for once shorter than him. "Don't go! Make Dumbledore do it!" Ron looked on extremely concerned as he watched Harry genuinely laugh.

"Hermione, I could hardly **make** Dumbledore do anything," Harry reminded her, casting his eyes around the common room, looking for the twins. And Ginny.

"When do you have to leave?" Ron asked, pulling Hermione's hand into his own so she didn't suffocate Harry before he had the chance to get killed in a much more heroic fashion.

"Not until tonight. Snape said that Voldemort always expects him to be late. So, after a quick lesson on how to apparate, we have the whole evening together. Break out the chess set and Exploding Snaps." Harry tried to give a light-hearted smile, but the fact that in mere hours he would be facing Voldemort once again was tearing up his stomach.

"Don't forget the gobstones," Ron mumbled, obviously just as nauseous. 

"Can we come to the lesson?" Hermione asked, unable to stifle her intellectual curiosity. In a way, it was oddly comforting. Harry thought back to the week spent at the Burrow, practicing for the Quidditch match, and how at home he felt then, with Hermione fussing about and muttering "Boys" and Mrs. Weasley worrying over his weight while serving him extra portions at breakfast and Mr. Weasley asking about "radiationers" and the twins blowing things up and Ginny occasionally letting out a small "Eep!" as she peeked out past her bedroom door. That entire time, Harry had felt, no, **known** that these people were his family. It seemed a lifetime ago now. And he was leaving them all behind.

"I'm going down to Lupin's in a few minutes, if you want to tag along," Harry answered, aware that he had been floating around for quite some time.

Leaving them in the common room, Harry rushed out to the Quidditch pitch, expecting to find the twins there. He was not disappointed. Of course, they had also had little experience with his new form, and Harry momentarily was hurt by the nasty stares they were throwing him.

"No use hiding it any longer, boys," Harry sneered, surprising Fred and George by addressing them so personably. "I know you've always fancied me, might as well get it out in the open." For one glorious moment, Harry thought the twins were going to be sick, but Fred caught and nearly broke Harry's arm in the "good-natured" punch he threw him.

"Harry, that has to be one of the most disturbing things I have ever heard or seen," George grimaced. 

"Yeah, I think I need therapy to get that image out of my head," added Fred, still a little green around the edges.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," smiled Harry, marveling at how easy it was to forget for a moment that he wasn't about to journey into the heart of the Death Eater culture. "I've come to discuss some business with you. And we haven't much time…"

@@@

"The full moon should be here soon," Harry thought as he stood on the observation deck of the astronomy tower, waiting for Draco Malfoy to come. The few hours spent with Ron and Hermione had gone by too quickly, but that's how time works when faced with the worst. The Triwizard Tournament had taught Harry that. Fun rarely lasts and trials drag on for all eternity. _Well, maybe things_ _aren't all that bad_, he mused when Malfoy ascended the stairs.

"Malfoy, what has happened to your face?" Harry asked, transforming his dire need to laugh into something reasonably close to shock and genuine concern. Draco Malfoy, fair-haired pretty boy, looked more like Eloise Midgen before she accidentally charmed her nose off. In other words, his face was blanketed by acne. Of course, Harry knew what had happened to his face. Fred and George had added a little…spice to his dinner. A simple favor for a friend.

"Here are the brooms," Malfoy hissed, obviously not grateful for being reminded of his new complexion. Harry and Malfoy mounted the brooms and, within seconds, apparated into the night. It didn't feel so much as a tug on the pit of your stomach, like Floo powder and port keys did. It was more like slowly melting, disappearing one molecule at a time, like you are nothing at all, only mostly water. It was the most vivid reminder of the physicality of human life, when most of the time you define yourself by the intangible. And Harry didn't enjoy it one bit. It wasn't that it was uncomfortable. This made Floo-ing seem like walking over hot coals. But the split second when you are in between destinations, you can't help but wonder how you can be nowhere at all, and what that means. Of course, Harry didn't have time to reflect on all of this, or even really _think_ it, for he soon found himself in what looked like a large underground manor. Snape had explained to him that the burn of the Dark Mark left a residual signature of Voldemort, a sort of magical tracing mechanism that meant the next time you apparated, you immediately found yourself wherever Voldemort was hiding. At the time, Harry had asked if that meant people like Karkaroff, who decided to flee when called, could never apparate again. "People like Karkaroff never need to apparate anywhere ever again," was Snape's answer. Looking about him, at the walls adorned with skulls and traces of hex marks, Harry could appreciate that answer.

"This way Malfoy," Harry announced, turning down a corridor on their left. The décor matched with what Snape had referred to as the Welsh House, named for the three freestanding blue stones near the entrances to each main hall. _Hermione drilled me all night on the plans to this place_, Harry reminisced, before stopping himself with a hard blink. He needed to keep his mind, as well as everything else, in character with a Death Eater if he wanted to make it out of here alive. Coming up to a set of double doors and faltering for a moment as he tried to remember if there was a secret knock or some type of protocol when addressing the Dark Lord, he entered into an elaborate cell, lined with more Death Eaters than Harry knew existed.

"Ah, Severus, Draco, I'm glad you've finally graced us with your presence," greeted a cold, shrill voice. Turning his attention to the throne in the center of the room, Harry was met with the crimson stare of Lord Voldemort.

****

Mwa ha ha, another cliffhanger for all you lovely people out there. Maybe you'll review and yell at me again, and that'll be worth it. I decided to thank a few people who've reviewed, and if you aren't mentioned, just review again and I'll give you a shout-out next time around :P

Sova: thanks for the criticism, I figured everyone here knew the principles of Polyjuice so I didn't bother writing "and then he took another sip…and then he took another sip" And about Harry being vulnerable, I still think he is, even with all of his new powers. There are other ways to be hurt than just physically and with all of this going on around him, I doubt there will be a shortage of pain.

Kat: good luck on your story and thanks for reading mine

Sweets: I need 20 reviews per chapter or I'll unleash hell!

Lily Grul: thanks bunches

Elsebeth Fishnips: I liked your profile so much I think I'll have to give your stories a try J 

Jan Girl: geeze, talk about pressure

Kelzery: there, my email's up, just for you

Nagh and everyone else: XOXO


	20. Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

9:00 PM 

"My Lord," Harry whispered, bowing to kiss the hems of Voldemort's robes, trying not to hear his father's heart breaking at the sight. At his side, Harry wasn't surprised to see Draco Malfoy doing the same, except he wasn't supposed to look so revolted, was he? _Maybe he's just used to having his nose up in the air, not down on the ground_, Harry thought as he arose and presented Voldemort with the potion Snape had left for him.

"Are you well, Severus? Your face seems flushed," Voldemort asked, making it all too apparent that he did not really care about Snape's health, only that he **did** notice everything about his Death Eaters. _Not everything, please not everything, _Harry hoped.

"I've been doing work outside, since Potter died," Harry answered, finding it remarkably easy to speak of himself in the third person. He smiled grimly at the thought that he might be getting as arrogant as royalty with these new powers. Luckily, Voldemort interpreted that smirk as a reaction to Harry's "death" and put it aside for the moment.

"What on Earth does that man have you doing outside?" Voldemort asked, shocking Harry with a strange impression that he already knew the answer.

"I've been reinforcing the security around the perimeter of the grounds," Harry answered, mentally running through the list of incantations that Snape had had him memorize.

"Give the sequence to Wormtail before you leave. Right now, I want to hear your thoughts as to why Dumbledore would bother with the wards if Potter has already died."

_This isn't any different from lying to the Dursleys about…everything. This isn't any different than lying to Dumbledore. **Yes it is, you dolt! If Dumbledore caught you lying, he wouldn't kill you! **Shut up, you're not helping._ Getting weary of the two sides of his mind bickering, Harry opted for his best guess. "Well, Dumbledore does have other students to worry about, my lord. He can't appear to play favorites, let his guard down just because the boy is out of the way."

"Maybe he knows he's next on the list. It's unfortunate that the plan failed. But I'm sure we'll find a more amusing means to an end. Now tell me about Harry's death." All of the surrounding Death Eaters murmured in encouragement and even Draco Malfoy lost the look of boredom that he seemed to have adopted since arriving.

"He drowned. Ginny Weasley told Dumbledore that he was having some sort of seizure when she left for help. By the time we got out there, he was already in the lake. We tried to revive him but it was too late by then." It took all of Harry's restraint to keep himself from slapping that smug smile off Malfoy's face. But Voldemort wasn't through with him yet. "How did he end up in the lake? How did he drown? How did he know how to break the connection?"

What was Harry supposed to say? Snape hadn't prepped him on this, had he? Or maybe he just forgot…"I don't know the origins of this connection, but I suppose he noticed that knocking himself out stopped the seizures. Perhaps he thought that Dumbledore would come to his rescue in time to revive him if he drowned himself."

"Crucio!" The word had barely passed Voldemort's lips before Harry was doubled over, screaming in pain, feeling as if he was being skinned alive. Voldemort was saying something, but he couldn't hear above his own howling. Voldemort must have noticed and he lift the curse, allowing Harry to breathe again. "Don't lie to me, Severus," Voldemort hissed, his blood-red eyes narrowed into threatening slits, his hand beckoning one of the hooded death eaters forward. "I trust you remember your old friend?" Voldemort asked, as the Death Eater lowered his hood, and Harry's stomach fell as he realized what Voldemort knew, and what that meant for nearly everyone Harry cared about.

"You!" Harry shouted, before being bound by Wormtail and falling at the feet of Luca. _How much has he heard? How am I going to get out of this? How could we have trusted him? _These were just a few questions racing through Harry's mind as he stared at the vampire before him. Of course, he knew the answer to one of those. They had trusted him because Remus Lupin had brought him in. No, more than that. They had trusted him because Albus Dumbledore trusted him. _How could he have been wrong?_

"Now, Severus, I know that Harry Potter is alive. I've also been told that you are a spy for Albus Dumbledore, but we knew this already. Until now, I've thought you've been of more use to me than to him, but I did not expect you to hide Potter from me, given your history with the boy. So I'll give you the opportunity to tell me where he is. Depending on your answer, you may live a bit longer."

_Wasn't Luca there when I decided? _Harry wondered. Of course, the Whomping Willow could have been there that morning when Harry decided to become Severus Snape and he wouldn't have noticed, he was that nervous. So the Polyjuice must be working, if Voldemort had to ask him where he was. Would he believe that a freezing charm had worked? Where would they have hidden Harry? It would have to be outside Hogwarts for Luca not to find him, if he had even looked. Where had Luca been? Why hadn't he bothered to ask anyone? _ Something's not right,_ Harry thought, but he had to give an answer now, before Voldemort raised that wand one more time and there would be no pain, only green light. _I could fight him. Don't I have all of these new powers? Why can't I apparate out? **He probably has some wards up.**_ _And I wouldn't win. Wouldn't even come close_. 

"I don't know where he is," Harry whispered.

"Crucio!"

9:15

"I don't!" Harry pleaded, deciding that stalling wouldn't help him think of anything better. "Dumbledore had me make Polyjuice Potion, that's all I know. The next morning, he was gone. Or at least I think he was. And Dumbledore had let out the story of the death. He hasn't said anything to me, no one has." 

Voldemort didn't seem appeased by this explanation, but Harry couldn't decide whether it was due to mistrust or the fact that it would be near impossible to find Harry Potter if he was anyone in the world. "Put him in the dungeon," Voldemort ordered the crowd. Someone grabbed Harry's elbow roughly and led him down the hall, into a cell oddly warmer than the previous room had been. Harry was relieved that they left him there alone. He had at least one good thing coming to him, he thought. Still, there was the matter of Voldemort knowing Snape was a traitor, Voldemort knowing that Harry was still alive, Voldemort knowing that Sirius was at Hogwarts, Voldemort knowing that Mr. And Mrs. Weasley and a dozen new members of the Resistance were at the Three Broomsticks, Voldemort possibly knowing the new address of the Dursleys, Harry knowing that the blood stone was still out there, Harry not knowing where exactly it was because he hadn't _actually_ seen it during the attack, only heard about it, and Harry having only 45 minutes until **_he_** was really in the cell, not Severus Snape.

__

I could blast my way out of here, fly out past whatever wards there might be and apparate back to Hogwarts. But the Blood Stone would still be here. Maybe I could go out in a blaze of glory. Kill a couple of Death Eaters before they get me. All I have to do is say the words and really mean it, right? How much do I want this war to be over? Enough to kill someone? Could I kill Voldemort? No, he's not human anymore. He's something else. But vampires can die. Werewolves can die. All of those things we learned about in Defense Against Dark Arts had their weaknesses, so why not him? Harry was prepared to waste another five minutes thinking about his options, or lack thereof, when he noticed he was no longer alone.

"What are you doing down here?" Harry asked, momentarily forgetting that he was supposed to be Severus Snape and that he really didn't care what Luca was doing there, only that Harry wanted him in the cell with him so he could test his convictions.

"Shh, Harry, there isn't much time," Luca answered, leaning in closer to the bars and holding out what looked like a money pouch.

"I don't know what you're talking about, vampire," Harry growled, trying to hold in his shock and to remember what it sounds like to be indignant.

"What if I told you that I really don't see myself with a pair of woolen socks in the Mirror of Erised?" Luca asked, the twinkle in his draconian eyes looking so familiar.

"Dumbledore?" Harry gasped, hardly able to believe it. "That's impossible," Harry argued when Luca nodded. "Polyjuice can't turn you into a vampire, just like you can't become a magical creature if you're Animagous." With all that they had relied on the potion for, Harry had paid attention to Snape's lesson that night.

"Did you know that vampires become human again when killed?" Dumbledore asked. Harry was just about to ask what that had to do with anything when Dumbledore shoved the pouch into Harry's hand. "I'll see you again soon," was all Dumbledore said before retreating down the corridor. After trying to shake his head to clear out the confusion, Harry looked in the bag and pulled out the Time Turner. 

9:20

He hadn't seen one since his third year, and even then never touched it. Only now did he notice that the sand moved as if something was alive just beneath the surface. _How does this work again? One turn for one hour, but where will I end up? And what can I do to make this right?_ Harry didn't know, but the fact that Dumbledore did made him put the chain of the hourglass around his neck and give it a quick turn, everything rewinding past him in a myriad of blurred color, like he was flying his Firebolt backward through time. 

8:20

And then he found himself in the entrance hall of Hogwarts, just as if the past hour, or year, hadn't even happened. _When am I?_ He wondered, trying to remember what time he had left the Ron and Hermione in the common room, trying not to yell at himself for not even thinking about saying goodbye to Sirius and Remus and Dumbledore. Maybe then he would have been more prepared for what had just happened. _But that's in the past…or it's right about now…or is it in the future?_ It was all giving him a massive headache, but since he knew that the other Harry was up in the Gryffindor common room until just before he left Hogwarts with Draco, Harry decided to head down to Snape's office and think.

__

I was with Voldemort for 20 minutes, so now I'm 40 minutes before I get there, if that makes any sense. I'm surprised even Hermione could keep this straight. Wait! Why don't I just go find her and ask her? **Because I'm there with her and if I see me I might kill myself. **_What about Lupin or Sirius? They wouldn't know I'm in both places. **Nobody is supposed to know, it's against the law. No one can see me like this.** Well I don't know what to do!_ That was Harry's conclusion as he reached his, no, Snape's office. He was just about to stick his head in a cauldron and be done with it when a small note on the desk caught his attention. "Just in case," read the loopy script, and next to the parchment was a small flask. One whiff of it told him it was more Polyjuice potion, and Harry had the strong urge to throw the bottle at the nearest wall for all that potion had done in the past week. _Who does he want me to turn into_? Maybe it would just buy him more time? But that didn't make any sense. If Dumbledore had wanted him to stay as Snape for longer he could have just brought him more Polyjuice potion instead of the Time Turner. No, the only thing that was good for was rectifying one mistake. 

8:30

__

This whole idea has been one big mistake, Harry thought bitterly as he palmed the potion and headed back down the Slytherin hallways, pausing once to hide in a corner when he heard approaching footsteps. Peeking past the silver-lined curtains he was behind, he saw that it was only Draco Malfoy, going to his room to get his Nimbus 2001, and suddenly Harry knew why Dumbledore had sent him back.

"Stupefy!" Harry wasn't seen. First time, and last time, he'd ever curse someone from behind, but the effect was the same: Draco Malfoy was lying motionless on the floor. Harry was tempted to burn off a lock of the boy's hair but instead simply yanked very hard, coming away with a handful of silvery strands to be added to the potion in the pocket of his robes. With time to spare, Harry dragged Malfoy back into Snape's office and bound him, knowing that the spell would wear off before he returned.

8:50 

Harry hadn't the chance to say goodbye to Hedwig his first time out. Now, watching her soar out of the owlery, letter in claw, he wished he hadn't this time either. Goodbyes really are awful things. Looking at his watch, relieved that Snape's actually worked, he began his trek up to the astronomy tower, stopping quickly for the brooms and a new set of robes in the Slytherin dorm. Then he drank the potion, wondering if there would be any side effects for already being someone else and changing into another. Wouldn't it be awful to be stuck as some type of Snape-Malfoy hybrid? 

Fortunately, he soon found himself the spitting image of Draco Malfoy, though he was regretting his decision to give Malfoy something resembling the plague. It was a lot less funny when his own face was covered in pimples. Slinging the brooms over his shoulder, he raced up the stairs to the tower in order to meet himself on time. "Malfoy, what has happened to your face?" his other self asked. Seeing Severus Snape, sneering as always, made Harry hiss at the man and shove the broom into his hand before he even remembered that it was **his** hand. And then, it was time again and he was staring into those crimson eyes once more, only a little less afraid now that he had himself beside him.

9:00

"Ah, Severus, Draco, I'm glad you've finally graced us with your presence," Voldemort greeted. Harry concentrated on his surroundings in an attempt to avoid the scene of himself kissing Voldemort's robes. In fact, he tried to ignore the whole conversation, instead wondering which one of those masked Death Eaters was Dumbledore and how he had come to be there in the first place. And then a murmur ran through the crowd, startling Harry out of his musings and reminding him how little time he had left. Casting his eyes about the chamber, he finally noticed the glow radiating from the back of Voldemort's throne. Something so close to fire that it nearly made Harry panic, before he realized what he was looking at. The Blood Stone. It was embedded in the throne. Harry had just begun to think of ways to get the stone out of there when an awful, heart-piercing cry shattered his thoughts. He turned, his stomach nearly dropping as he saw Severus Snape, no, that was him there, clawing at the ground, then his own flesh, trying to escape the Cruciatus Curse. 

9:20

Harry had only watched as the Death Eaters dispersed into smaller groups, some laughing at the memory of Snape being dragged away into the dungeons, others whispering frantically as if they were scared they might share the same fate. But this period of slight disorganization only descended into total chaos when a man Harry had never seen before burst into the room, announcing the news of Snape's escape. Almost immediately, Voldemort was shouting orders and Death Eaters were running left and right, only a few young ones like Harry straggling behind, not knowing what to do or even how to do it. The last thing Harry wanted to do was take his eyes off that stone, but he ran with the rest of them, trying to remember every turn so he could sneak back in a few minutes, when it wouldn't look so obvious that he was trying to stay behind. As he followed a flock of black cloaks towards the courtyard at the back of the compound, a hand shot out and pulled him roughly into an abandoned storage closet. Harry nearly lost control of his powers here, fully prepared to burn whoever it was into a crisp, until he heard a thick accent whisper "Lumos" and was met with Luca.

"Mr. Malfoy, do you know who I am?" Dumbledore asked.

"Sir, they know I've escaped!" Harry answered, finding it hard to curb the panic in his voice.

"That's the best thing that's happened all night," Dumbledore answered, taking a seat on the floor so slowly that Harry wondered if he knew he was no longer an old man. But the Headmaster merely continued. "There are so many things on the books tonight that they might not even notice a silly little stone." 

"How is this possible?" Harry continued, not caring that he only had a half-hour before this new batch of Polyjuice wore off. He was tired of it all, and a little more than peeved that he hadn't been let in on the secret. And was Dumbledore the one that told Voldemort of Harry's survival, or was that the real Luca, and what did he mean by saying vampires became human when killed? Harry actually shouted these questions before a warning hand shot up and he shut up as they heard a trail of footfalls pass their door.

"Last night, I was fortunate enough to catch Luca having a candid discussion with a very understanding _rat_," Dumbledore answered once they were alone again. "It was only after a discussion with Sirius and Remus this evening that I decided on this plan. That is all you need to know about the how, at least at the moment. Now, we need to hurry. Luca told Voldemort about the location of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and our new friends and he is sending a party out tonight to eliminate them. Do you know where the stone is?"

"It's embedded in his throne," Harry breathed, the thought of "Weasley" and "eliminate" being in the same sentence together making him nauseous. "But I don't know how I can get it out, with him in there. Or what good it would do without a vampire willing to destroy it."

"Maybe that won't matter. Luca gave us that information and it's possible he was lying. But I'll deal with that. I want you to find Lucius Malfoy. He's leading a team to the Three Broomsticks. Make sure you're on it."

9:30

After a mutual "good luck", Harry raced down the corridor and out the main doors, knowing nowhere else to look for Malfoy. Luckily, his guess was the right one. A group of twenty Death Eaters was slowly making its way up the tunnel that led to the surface. "Father!" Harry shouted, running to catch up. _Just say you want to do it for the family name, to make your mark, give a good impression, kill filthy Muggles…kill the Weasleys._

"What are you doing here, Draco?" Lucius scolded as he fell behind in the pack to talk to his son.

"All of the other new recruits are just hanging about," Harry whined, experienced at the sound after years of Dudley Dursley. 

"That's because our Lord doesn't trust you yet," Lucius answered, his voice so oily that Harry found it a marvel he didn't choke on it.

"Then can't I come with you and prove he can trust me?" Harry asked. He could see moonlight up ahead. _Why can't I just apparate there on my own, or stop these people from going at all_? Harry wondered, though he knew that he should be cautious and follow Dumbledore's orders.

"Your mother would kill me if she found out," Lucius answered, though he was so clearly considering. He only needed one more incentive.

"I want to make my mark as a Malfoy, father," Harry said. That did it. Once they reached the surface, they all apparated into Hogsmeade.

9:40

Harry found himself huddled in a dark ally between Dervish and Banges and Gladrags Wizardwear on High Street, just across from the 3 Broomsticks. Harry could see Madam Rosmerta, pouring someone a drink. Were all of these people supposed to die? But Harry only had ten minutes to get away from the group of mortal enemies he was surrounded by before they realized that fact. "We'll wait until Wimple leaves," someone was whispering ahead of him. "He'd get in touch with the ministry before we even make it upstairs." Harry couldn't remember where he heard that name before, but he assumed it was the small wizard with horns that was currently settling his tab with Rosmerta. "Draco, stay in the back," Lucius was instructing him. "Only hit someone if you know they won't get up."

9:45

"Yes Father," Harry answered, moving to the back of the group and further, inching slowly against the wall so no one would notice him retreating. Glancing skyward, he saw that the rooftop wasn't too far ahead. Wimple was about to reach the door when Harry levitated himself onto the roof of the Gladrags Boutique. Moving closer to the edge, he peered over onto the group of Death Eaters, who were busy watching Wimple stroll down the street with his lady friend. Taking this chance, Harry again concentrated on the spell that would later spawn Wingardium Leviosa and the Mobility charms. He began to feel the change once he had moved to the back of the pub. He knew that Malfoy had to have started across the street, or at least noticed that Draco was gone. Wasting no time, Harry cursed his way through an upstairs window, blushing scarlet as he ran through the ladies room and down the hall to room 3, where the Weasleys were waiting for him, wands raised.

"Harry?!" screeched Mrs. Weasley. She was preparing to envelope the boy in a bone crushing hug and Harry was prepared to burst out laughing at the sight of Aunt Marge, sitting on the bed and twiddling a wand in her fat hand, when screams were heard from downstairs, the words "Avada Kedavra" ringing through the air.


	21. twentyone

A/N: Sorry, this is a really short one and a cliff hanger too :P That's because a hardly got any reviews for the last one ****

A/N: Sorry, this is a really short one and a cliff hanger too :P That's because a hardly got any reviews for the last one. So there. Actually, it's because I have a full work load this week and I'm worried about making you wait too long for a good sized chapter, so I'll try to give you a little bit at a time until I have a day to really get down to the nitty gritty. See, I'm a considerate person. So why don't you review? Please? I have an inferiority complex and 100 something reviews ain't gonna cut it anymore! This bloody thing is 80 pages long! Also tell your friends. Also, what's archiving? Also, sorry about the rant and I'll get on with it. Don't mind me, too much Cherry Coke does this to me. I'll regain my humility by the next chapter. Oh, JKR owns this etceteras etceteras… 

Chapter Twenty-One

"How many?" Aunt Marge asked, or rather Snape asked, standing up and pushing past Harry to get a view of the pub downstairs.

"Twenty, including Mr. Malfoy," Harry answered, relieved to once again be in his own body. He could only hope that Dumbledore had found the Blood Stone. Mr. Weasley's eyes perked up when Malfoy was mentioned. He had long wanted to get that particular Death Eater in his hands. "Where are the others?" Harry asked. He had expected a dozen wizards to be in that room with the Weasleys, but only a very ancient looking woman of Professor Flitwick's stature was there, sleeping on the bed as if nothing of great importance was happening.

"Downstairs, which is where we should be," Mr. Weasley answered, joining Snape on the balcony and taking a quick glance at the scene below.

"It looks like the new crew is holding its own. We might be able to get them all," Mrs. Weasley put in as she too joined Snape.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. Lucius Malfoy has no qualms about using the Unforgivable Curses," Snape answered, as if it were a bad thing. "Let's apparate down behind the bar before they have a chance to come up the stairs."

"I'm coming too," Harry piped in, before they could leave without him.

"Out of the question!" Mrs. Weasley whispered as loudly as she could. 

"Well it's either help you lot here or go back to Dumbledore," Harry said.

"Go back to Dumbledore," Mr. Weasley answered, before furrowing his brows and asking exactly where Dumbledore was.

"At Voldemort's lair," Harry answered, and seeing the look of horror on Mrs. Weasley's face, he apparated down behind the bar before they could answer him, nearly screaming out when he reappeared beside the body of Madam Rosmerta, eyes just like Cedric Diggory's had been only a few months ago. Luckily he had no time to dwell on the…unfairness of it all, for soon the others had joined him behind the bar and were whispering what hexes to use, and debating who should go for help. Mr. Weasley shot a few random Stunning spells out towards the throng of remaining Death Eaters that were still being held against the door as Mrs. Weasley apparated to the residential area of the village in search of a family that would contact the Ministry for backup, if it hadn't been done already.

"You look lovely," Harry whispered in between his own Stunning spells that he shot at the pack, along with some boils and tentacles and other nasty things that would annoy them. Snape merely sneered as he set fire to one of the wizard's robes. "It should wear off any minute now," he answered in his husky Aunt Marge voice. "I took the Polyjuice just before your owl got there."

"How'd you cope with the Dursleys? Any problems?" Harry asked, grinning as he saw Lucius Malfoy's teeth expand to the size of beavers'. 

"Other than being with your family, no," Snape answered, trying to keep his anger in check so he wouldn't just kill one of those Death Eaters and earn a life sentence in Azkaban for it. Although Magical Law Enforcement officers had been granted the power to use Avada Kedavra in extreme emergencies, the fact that Minister Fudge did not openly acknowledge Voldemort's return and thus did not acknowledge the need for such measures meant that the creed of "Kill or be killed" did not apply to those brave enough to stand up against Voldemort and his cronies. "I think Moody was just chasing garbage cans again," Snape continued, having thankfully returned to his own form by the end of that long thought. "Either that or he wanted me to suffer cruel and unusual punishment."

Harry had no time to reply. One of the Death Eaters had noticed that some of the curses being thrown at them were coming from the bar, and in no time Harry found himself bombarded by the Cruciatus Curse. "Harry!" Mr. Weasley gasped, shouting "Expelliarmus!" at the man but hitting one of his companions instead as Harry continued to writhe in pain on the ground. _Stop it_! His brain shouted, and before he even knew what he was doing, before he could even _think_ of raising his hand, a beam of cobalt light shot from Harry's outstretched fingers, hammering the man in the heart just before he fell to the floor. The pain stopped long enough for Harry to realize what he had done, and then a different strain of that emotion filled him to the brim. "I killed him."

Snape was staring wide-eyed at the body, Mr. Weasley staring wide-eyed at Harry. "It was an accident, Harry," Mr. Weasley comforted, at the same time as Snape asked "Can you do that again?"

Harry couldn't hear the argument that ensued between Snape and Mr. Weasley. He couldn't hear the on-going battle just beyond the bar, where more of the Death Eaters were being revived by their friends and more of the good wizards were falling dead to the ground. All Harry could hear was something Dumbledore had said at the end of his second year: "It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." _What does that mean for me? I don't remember choosing to kill him, it just happened, like blowing up Aunt Marge had happened and setting that snake free had happened. But didn't I want those things, somewhere? An hour ago I wanted Voldemort dead. So maybe I did choose. And that means I'm a murderer. _Harry didn't know what to think anymore, only that he didn't want to think at all. He wanted to be back with Ron and Hermione, playing Exploding Snap, listening to Hermione worry if 7 extra parchments was acceptable and listening to Ron complain about Percy complaining about cauldrons. Anything but listening to Snape yell at Mr. Weasley about using all of their resources and besides that what Harry had done wasn't one of the 3 Unforgivable curses so he probably wouldn't go to Azkaban for it. And Mr. Weasley shouting Look at the boy, killing one man has done enough! _But it's not enough, people are dying out there!_ Harry thought, and before the two men before him could come to blows, there was a brilliant flash of light, and it was over.

****

A/N: me again. I know, I'm evil. Hardly worth the effort to click on my story, was it? How could I just leave it like that??? Why don't you just yell at me, or beg for more because I love a good beg. Review or I'll end the story like that! Don't Make Me Do It!!!


	22. 22

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-two

"Luca, what are you still doing here?" Albus Dumbledore sadly considered the man before him. Peter Pettigrew was indeed dead, and Wormtail was all that remained. There was nothing of the old Marauder left to save, and for that Dumbledore was both incredibly sad and incredibly grateful. Power, next to fear, has the strongest hold on a man with Wormtail's character. And unfortunately, he had both keeping him by Voldemort's side. It would be useless to try to salvage whatever good might have survived that Halloween so many years ago. But even if there were a chance, Dumbledore probably wouldn't dream of taking it. Besides what it might do to Harry, there were other things to consider, namely Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. His two most trusted allies and friends, next to Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape, had slowly began to rebuild whatever magic they had before Tom Riddle became a name few dared to speak. And Dumbledore owed it to them to let Wormtail be the villain. _Maybe when this is all over, everyone can move on. _But right now, Dumbledore could not move. Could not leave this place until he had the Blood Stone. Until he did what he came here to do.

"I need an audience with Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore answered. Wormtail was about to question him when what he knew as Luca's face appeared to melt away, leaving him face to face with Albus Dumbledore. Nothing above a scared whimper escaped Wormtail's lips before he scampered down the hall, clearing the path into the chamber where Voldemort awaited.

"My, Tom, has so much changed in fifty years?" Dumbledore asked, catching Voldemort in a rare moment of oblivious concentration.

"You," Voldemort hissed, his eyes narrowing to slits, but not before Dumbledore could see the shock and even fear. Noticing Dumbledore's smile, he swallowed whatever had been boiling behind his eyes and began the game he so often played when faced with an uncertain outcome. "Please, Albus, won't you join me? Care for some tea? No? Well, feel free to take a seat. I promise, I won't bite. Yet," Voldemort added in what could have been a playful sneer if it wasn't him speaking.

Dumbledore hated that he couldn't read Voldemort nearly as well as anyone else, but he took the conjured chair regardless, and his old bones thanked him for it.

"Now what can I do for you?" Voldemort asked, ever the gracious host, as he surveyed the mage before him and wondered just how fast the man could pull his wand out of his sleeve, or if he even needed to.

"I've come for the stone," Dumbledore answered, knowing just how fast, and how willingly, Voldemort could pull his wand. And again, Dumbledore was treated to the look of surprise in his companion's face. Voldemort had not expected him to be so forward. The fact that he had been caught off guard once again infuriated him to no end.

"What makes you think I'd just hand it over to you?" he roared, forgetting the part he was supposed to be playing. It never mattered to him that it was unbelievable, the idea that Lord Voldemort was a civil, rational human being. The pretense was the thing, the time it bought to assess just how far the other person was willing to bend, time to decide if he'd kill them outright or use them first. Of course, with Albus Dumbledore, he wasn't sure if he could do either, and knowing that only made him hate the man more.

"What harm could it do, Tom?" Dumbledore smiled, ever calm. 

"Don't call me that!" Voldemort snarled, images of his father and mother coming to mind, reminders that he was once a man, a child, a frail being that could be hurt, was hurt. But still, he found himself removing the stone from the setting on his throne and handing it over to Dumbledore like it meant nothing.

"It does mean nothing," Dumbledore whispered, smiling again at the shock and outrage in Voldemort's eyes. Shock so encompassing that he didn't even notice the older man's movements.

"How did you know?" Voldemort asked, sounding more human than he had in years and hating himself for it. And hating himself even more when he saw that Dumbledore's wand was out, that Dumbledore was whispering a spell he did not know, when he was supposed to know everything. 

Seeing the blatant fear on Voldemort's face, Dumbledore smiled again at something hidden, the knowledge of what was going to happen next and that, no matter what happened to him, all that he had cared for and all that he had fought for would live beyond that day, and he'd live on forever. "Don't look so frightened, Tom. We both know that you can't die." And then the whole compound was enveloped by a brilliant light, a sound of everything, all energy and all life, rushing inward into the center only to be forced out again into the night with an explosion that even Cornelius Fudge could see in his sphere of denial within the Ministry walls.

@@@

Crouching behind the bar at the 3 Broomsticks, Harry couldn't begin to fathom how it was possible that so many things could happen at once. Upon being disarmed by a misdirected spell from Arthur Weasley, Lucius Malfoy had grabbed his fallen comrade's wand, pointed it at the tuft of red hair visible from Mr. Weasley's hiding place, and had uttered the first syllables of the killing curse. Snape had immobilized two of the Death Eaters that were gaining headway towards the group from America at the far end of the pub. And in a burst of light that could only be explained after the fact, a group of Aurors, led by Mrs. Weasley, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black had blown out the door and windows, taking down a handful of Death Eaters with the debris and curses. All in one moment, the battle was over, Lucius Malfoy lying motionless on the floor, wide-eyed and effectively stunned by an angry Molly Weasley. The few Death Eaters that were not unconscious or, in one case, dead had apparated out of sight.

While the Aurors buzzed about, securing bonds around more than a dozen dark wizards, and Remus Lupin rushed to the aid of the four surviving Americans, a very relieved and very worried Sirius Black ran to Harry's side, nearly crushing the boy in the embrace that followed. "Thank you," he whispered to no one in particular (though Severus Snape did hear it and was sure to bring it up to anyone with ears that **_the_** Sirius Black had thanked him). Hearing the gasp for breath against his chest, Sirius let Harry ago, only to ruffle the boy's hair some more and smile, "You're you again." But Harry was far from happy to see his godfather. It didn't matter that Sirius had once, no, twice been so eager to kill Wormtail. All that mattered was that Harry and this nameless man currently being levitated by one of the Aurors had no such history of betrayal and hatred. Only one moment of pain, before Harry had wished him dead and it had happened. "Sirius, I killed that man," Harry whispered, eyes stinging though he couldn't even feel it above the numb, the worry that everything he had known about himself was a lie and that his godfather would see it too.

Sirius looked to where Harry's focus resided, returning a questioning glance to Arthur Weasley, who was too busy hugging his wife to notice. Grudgingly, he leaned into Snape and whispered, "What happened?"

Snape wouldn't have indulged Black's wish for discretion on any other day, but a distant yet all too clear memory of his own first kill, coupled with the fact that a handful of Aurors, who were members bound by Ministry law, surrounded them, prompted Snape to whisper his answer back. "It wasn't Avada Kedavra, must have been one of the new things he's learned this summer, though I can't imagine Lupin teaching him something like that. He was under the Cruciatus Curse at the time, I doubt he even knew what he was doing when he raised his hand, but he's been like this ever since," Snape concluded gesturing towards the stony faced youth leaning against a bar stool, staring at the man he had killed. Nodding, Sirius approached Harry, putting a hand that he hoped would be comforting on his shoulder. "Harry, it wasn't your fault," he whispered, voice breaking at a combination of memories going through his mind, none of them staying long enough to identify but all hurtful just the same.

"You'd never say it was," Harry answered, still looking at the man, just then noticing. "He's not much older than me." It was true. The Death Eater Harry had killed was only a child. Maybe he thought doing this would make him a man. But thankfully he wasn't someone from Hogwarts. _Why does that make any difference_? Harry wondered, knowing only that it did, somehow.

"He's probably from Durmstrang," Snape observed. "Half of that bloody school thronged to kiss that bastard's robes." Earning a growl from Sirius, Snape harnessed whatever compassion he had left for Potter's sake. "He knew what he was getting himself into, Potter," he said in the most comforting tone he could muster as he stared at the Death Eaters being led from the scene.

"Did you?" Harry asked, not even shocked at asking such a question of such a guarded man. _Maybe I'm entitled, now_.

"Yes."

"But you did it anyway?"

Remus had joined the group by then and he looked very curious to hear the answer to this question. As if hearing it would allow him to prevent such a thing from ever happening again, even though he knew it was an impossibility.

"Yes," was all they got out of the Potions master before a strangled cry came from outside. Rushing out, Lupin asked what had happened, but all the witch could do was point at a group of people across the street as she continued to sob into her co-worker's robes. Harry and the rest all squeezed their way into the robe shop, stopping dead in their tracks as Belinda Squammish of the WWN repeated the news: "Following a massive explosion of uncertain origins in northeast Wales, nearly one hundred bodies have been found, including Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Witches and wizards, a bright light has indeed gone out tonight."

****

A/N: I know, I'm sorry, please don't stone me to death. I'm not normally a person who flings casualty about like background music, but I thought it might do some good to prepare myself for this happening in the real HP series (that's my disclaimer, by the way). But things will work out, you'll see. Thanks to everyone who begged. I never would have pulled the plug like that, honestly. It was just a ploy, a lil' plea for attention. I don't think I could ever write anything again if I did one of my stories that injustice. But that doesn't mean you can stop reviewing!


	23. 23

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-three

Harry wasn't sure how he got back to Hogwarts, only that he was relieved when Sirius and Remus insisted he go straight to bed. He knew that he would have to explain the night's events to them come morning, but now all he could think of was Albus Dumbledore, and what little hope the wizard world had left if Voldemort had survived the blast. Pulling the curtains closed around his four-poster bed, Harry collapsed onto his pillow, willing for it all to have been a dream.

Downstairs, however, it was all painfully lucid. Molly and Arthur Weasley had volunteered to speak to their children and Hermione, but Sirius and Remus had the daunting task of informing Minerva McGonagall, if she had not heard already. Upon finding her with a tear stained face in Dumbledore's office, it was obvious that she knew. "Please, Remus, please say it's a mistake," she whispered, begged even. It was a metaphor for the shape of the world, the fact that her tightly pulled bun was coming undone. That a woman of her character had been reduced to a pleading little girl.

"I wish it was," he answered, though he honestly didn't know what had happened. Couldn't conceive of how it had happened.

"How did you hear?" Sirius asked, trying hard not to look at all of Dumbledore's things and think of how often he had been called into this office during his youth, only to stare at those damn twinkling blue eyes that always _knew_. Always.

"Cornelius Fudge sent an owl a few minutes ago," she answered, the bitterness creeping in through her voice. _If he had only listened, none of this would have happened. No one would have died and we wouldn't be in his office without him_. "Asked me to be the new Headmistress, even mentioned you two."

"Us?" Sirius asked, clearly surprised. Then he remembered that he had stood side by side with a group of Ministry officials. As he thought about it now, he found it hard to believe that no one had said anything. "What did he say?"

"Only that a professor of ours, a werewolf and a known murderer were seen at the scene of a Death Eater attack and that he'd appreciate an explanation. Always did need things spelled out for him, the bloody idiot."

"What did you say?" Lupin asked, slightly amused, as appalling as it felt and seemed to be anything other than completely devastated at such a time, by the fury in Minerva's eyes.

"I told him what Albus would have told him. That Sirius is innocent and that you are a wonderful wizard despite whatever prejudices he may have and that I wasn't about to explain anything to him until he took the actions that Dumbledore recommended at the end of the Triwizard Tournament and if he had a problem with that he could…well, that's not important. What happened in Hogsmeade?"

"We lost half of Arthur's Americans, but everyone else survived," Sirius answered, the shuffling of his feet not going unnoticed.

"What happened?" McGonagall repeated, this time looking to Lupin.

"Harry killed a man," he answered. "We're not sure how, or what the repercussions will be. We're not even sure what happened earlier tonight."

McGonagall seemed to consider something and just nodded. "There will be a lot to be said in the morning. I think I'll stay here for a while. Goodnight."

Sirius and Remus left her sitting at Albus's desk, running her fingers over the eagle quill, the Sorting Hat, everything that still sat waiting for him to return. "Do you think Harry will be safe tonight?" Sirius asked, interrupting the silence that had been threatening to drive him mad as they made their ways to the staff quarters. "We don't know what happened to the Blood Stone."

"We don't know anything at all," Remus reminded him, feeling even wearier when he caught a glimpse of the moon through the tower window. "We don't even know if Draco Malfoy survived."

As it turned out, in the dungeons of Hogwarts Snape was discovering the answer to that very question. Walking into his office, he was shocked to see Draco hog-tied and squirming on top of Snape's desk. "What do you think you're doing here, Malfoy?" Snape barked as he undid the ropes. His blood boiled simply looking at the boy. While the others had responded with subdued acceptance when the news of Dumbledore's death came, Severus Snape had exploded, breaking a door and several bones in his hand in the process, which was why he was in his office looking for some extra Skelegro he had in stock. The fact that he was now staring at a Death Eater and the spawn of the most putrid, snobbish, self-loving Death Eater of them all was making Snape want to break something else, notably Draco's head. But the boy mustn't have noticed the murderous glare and tone.

"How dare you?" he sputtered rubbing at his wrist where the robes had burned.

"What are you talking about?" Snape snapped, balling up his fists to keep himself from striking the boy. 

"I may not have seen you but I know that voice. You stunned me and tied me up here like an animal-" Snape now understood, as Draco continued his rant. Harry must have had some fun before heading off to Voldemort, though he couldn't imagine why he would have excluded Draco from the Death Eater meeting. _Maybe if he hadn't, this piece of filth would be dead too_. "-and when my father hears-"

"Your father?" Snape sneered, interrupting whatever paltry threat was about to come out of Malfoy's mouth. "Your father has been caught, Draco. Your father will be spending a very long time in Azkaban. But maybe you'll be able to join him soon. Don't bother with rubbing," he added as he noticed Draco's hand moving instinctively to his left forearm. "That Dark Mark doesn't come off. Ever." Snape left Draco with a full body bind and, forgetting the pain in his hand, left his dark offices, wondering if Hagrid would mind a drink of Ogden's Old Firewhisky.

@@@

When Harry woke in the morning, he could barely bring himself to get out of bed, knowing all that had to be done. Knowing that maybe Dumbledore had given his life to protect the whole world, but maybe just to protect him. And another person dying in his place made Harry wish that the choice had been his. Then maybe Dumbledore would be alive, and that Death Eater would be alive and his mom would be alive. But of course, a nagging voice in the back of his head that sounded strangely like a combination of Sirius, Hermione and Dumbledore came through screaming that if he didn't go down for breakfast and face his friends that he'd really be in for it. So Harry quickly got dressed and went down to the Great Hall, hoping against hope that those black banners weren't up just yet.

And they weren't. But the enchanted ceiling didn't look so vivid, so real. Or maybe the sky wasn't allowed to be blue after something like that had happened.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, running up and gathering her friend in a very tight hug that, oddly enough, didn't bother Ron one bit. "Oh, Harry, how are you?" Ginny asked, or rather squeaked, as if the slightest fright would break him completely.

"I'm okay. Honestly," he added as he saw the Ron's eyebrow shoot straight up. "Have you heard?"

"Yes," was all Fred could say, looking more mature and unhappy than Harry had ever seen one of the Weasley twins.

"Sit down and eat," Hermione said. 

"Must be nice to be you again," Ron added, clearly not knowing what to say but having a good idea that telling his best friend to eat wasn't it.

"Yes, it is. But I have to go talk to them," Harry answered, jerking his thumb towards the staff table, where everyone seemed to be engrossed with their own breakfast plates, except for Hagrid, who was openly blubbering. "I'll see you later."

"You can wait until after breakfast for this, Harry," Remus greeted as the young man sat down next to Sirius at the staff table.

"I'd rather get it over and done with," he replied, casting a glance back at the Gryffindor table, wondering if he'd ever see his friends laughing again.

"That's understandable," Remus murmured, pushing away his own breakfast that had barely been touched. Harry proceeded to recount the events of last night, all the way through the attack at the 3 Broomsticks, wondering why he could no longer say, "I killed that man," only "I looked up and he was dead." Surely one night hadn't stripped him of accountability? 

"I've spoken with the Ministry and they'll need to see you for some examinations, Harry," McGonagall began without really knowing where to begin. "You aren't responsible for what happened. For any of it," she continued, looking Harry square in the eye. _Doesn't mean as much with those eyes, though. It's not the same_, he thought.

"I am responsible though," Harry mumbled back. "It shouldn't be any different for me than for other murderers. Just because it's me, it shouldn't matter."

"You should be glad that there is a difference, Potter," Snape spoke up. "You wouldn't like where you'd be if you really were a murderer, which you're not. Even if you had control over your actions last night, it would have been justified. It would have been right." It wasn't lost on Harry that Mrs. Weasley, who had stayed at the castle along with her husband, gave Snape a sharp look after that statement.

"Some things can never be justified," Harry answered, thinking back to when he had told Remus Lupin that Sirius deserved a Dementor's kiss for what he had supposedly done. Now he'd give anything to take that statement back, just like he'd give anything to take last night back. Somehow, like he nearly always did, Remus felt he knew what Harry was thinking. "Harry, we all lose control sometimes. I know I do at least once a month. Sometimes the power within each of us surpasses the limits of control, and then it's up to fate. Maybe you'll never lose the hate you have for the act of killing someone. I hope you never do. But you have to believe us when we say it wasn't your fault. We'd say the same thing if it had been the bloody Queen of England instead of a filthy Death Eater. It wasn't your fault. And you don't deserve Azkaban for it. You don't deserve a Dementor's kiss for it. You don't even deserve praise for it. Because it wasn't you. I can't tell you what it was, but it wasn't you. I think everyone at this table knows that." Everyone else fervently nodded, including the eavesdroppers over at the Gryffindor table. Trying hard not to cry and knowing better than to voice his doubt at some of what Lupin had said, Harry opted for an obvious change of subject.

"Professor, did you find Malfoy?" Harry asked. He had forgotten that he had left the little ferret tied up in the Potion master's office.

"Yes, and what a lovely coming home present it was, Potter," Snape sneered, his need to be sarcastic overwhelming in the face of sentimentality, loss, and fear. "All wrapped up in a little bow too."

"Where's he now?"

"Hopefully rotting away with his father in a Ministry cell somewhere," McGonagall answered lightly, while spreading some pumpkin butter on her biscuit.

As everyone else continued their breakfasts and discussed everything trivial they could think of, from the look on Draco's face when he was carted off by the real Mad Eye Moody, of all people, to the experience of talking to Severus Snape as Fat Aunt Marge, Harry asked Sirius if they could speak in private. Excusing himself from the table and shooting a brief smile at the curious stares of his friends, Harry followed his godfather back to his room near the other staff's quarters.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked, immediately regretting the question that so obviously could be answered with a truthful "everything."

Luckily, Harry let it slide. "I wanted to ask you some things."

"Go right ahead," Sirius answered, offering Harry the chair to his reading desk, still finding it hard to accept that he actually had a reading desk, let alone a _chair_.

"Have you heard anything more from the Ministry about last night? About you, I mean."

"McGonagall said she had a brief conversation with Fudge this morning. The only thing he said was, and I quote, 'Sirius Black, innocent? Impossible'. Then Minerva reminded him he said the same thing about Voldemort's return and that shut him up right quick. And then he blustered on about you being alive and that, as Minister of Magic, he demanded the truth, etceteras, etceteras. But he agreed to keep that fact limited to Ministry walls until we hear something more about the Blood Stone. But they mainly only discussed arrangements. For Dumbledore," Sirius answered, growing quiet at the end. 

"What happened, Sirius?" Harry asked, his blatant confusion dripping from his voice. How could this have happened? How could he have died? What were they going to do?

"I honestly don't know, Harry," Sirius answered, rubbing his hands over his face as if he hoped to wipe away a memory. "The investigators are still sorting through the rubble, trying to identify the cause. Trying to identify the bodies, too."

"Do they know if Voldemort escaped?"

"Not yet, but I think he must have. It'd take more magic than Dumbledore possessed to kill that monster."

"What about Wormtail?"

Here, Sirius's eyes brightened, whether out of hope, elation, anger or regret, Harry could not tell. "Arthur told his Ministry friends to keep an eye out for any metal body parts or a mangled rat," he smiled. Neither of them dared to hope too much that Peter Pettigrew would be found and Sirius's name would be cleared.

"So what are the arrangements?" Harry asked after a long silence, plenty of time to play "What If?" a million times over in both their minds.

"Come again?" Sirius asked, breaking away from the image of himself and Harry, together in a house of their own, practicing Quidditch in the yard, just like James would have wanted.

"The arrangements for Dumbledore? I suppose all of Britain will be queued up to see him off."

"Actually, it's going to be private. He was a private man, it's what he would have wanted. Everyone will have a chance to say goodbye, some ceremony that Fudge is cooking up. Giving himself a grand platform to announce that he knew about Voldemort's return all along and that his administration has been taking the proper actions. Bloody wanker. But he's not allowed to come to the private service. Hopefully someone will write that up, wipe the smile off his bloated face. It'll just be the people Dumbledore mentioned in his will. People he loved and admired."

"It's just as well," Harry answered. "I don't think I could have gone. I've never been to a funeral but I don't think I'd fancy it."

"Didn't you go to-"

"No," Harry broke in, not wanting Sirius to have to say it. "The Dursley's didn't think it was worth the trip."

Sirius swallowed back a growl. "Well, you may not fancy it (of course I'd think you were due some time in St. Mungo's if you actually did) but you are going to the funeral."

"What?!" Harry asked, torn between great surprise and honor that he was in Albus Dumbledore's will and the dread of having to go grieve publicly when he personally felt that that was the most private action in existence.

"Don't ask me," Sirius answered. "All I know is who will be in attendance, and you're one of them. Everything else will be settled afterward."

"Who else is going? Where? When?"

"The entire staff, a handful of people that worked with him during the fight against Grindewald and the first war against Voldemort, some Hogwarts alumni, me, Remus, Arthur, Molly. That's about all I can think of at the moment. And it's at Hogwarts, so Professor Binns can attend, tomorrow morning, so Remus can attend as a human being."

"No other students?"

"No."

"What about his family?"

"He has family?"

"He has a brother…Aberforth."

"I suppose he's coming as well. I can only remember the people that I know, but I assume everyone that's coming knows about my circumstances because McGonagall told me I was forbidden to come as a dog," Sirius laughed.

"But I don't understand!" Harry complained, not quite sure why this bothered him so much, only that it did. "Why would he want me there? I barely even knew him, not really."

"Harry, I've known the man for half my life and I didn't even know he _had_ a brother."

"Still…" but Harry left it at that, succumbing to Sirius's order that he go eat something and then spend some time with his friends. As Harry made his way back to the Great Hall, he couldn't help but wonder what Dumbledore had been thinking. He was always wondering that.

****

A/N: If anyone doesn't know already, I don't own these characters, or even the words, or letters, because if I did, "F" would be a whole lot prettier. Seriously though, sorry if this chapter wasn't up to par with the others. I think I may have writer's block, which never really stops me from writing, unfortunately for you, because everything comes out all…ick. But never mind. Me thinks this story is going to wrap up pretty soon, within a handful of chapter's I'd guess. But maybe I'll leave things open for a sequel if anyone's interested. Of course you wouldn't know, since it's not even over yet. I'll just shut up now, forget I said anything. Thanks for all of the smashing reviews. Please keep them coming, especially you new people! Don't be shy :) 


	24. So it Ends

Chapter Twenty-four:

Chapter Twenty-four:

So it Ends

The overcast skies that had hung over Hogwarts for the past few days broke on the morning of the funeral, the sun ricocheting off the lake and into the weary eyes of the two dozen people that were paying their respects to the greatest wizard of modern times. Harry could sense the worried sideways glances that Sirius, Remus, and Mrs. Weasley shot him from time to time, but still he kept his sight locked on his shoe laces, determined not to break down in front of these people, or anyone for that matter. The day before had been filled with hushed tones and muted conversations, revelations that the Ministry had no earthly idea as to what had caused the explosion, only that Voldemort had disappeared once again. Revelations that one Peter Pettigrew was counted among the deceased and that a probe into the possible innocence of Sirius Black, wanted felon, was about to be launched with the full backing of Minister Fudge himself. In spite of being faced with the possibility that his godfather would soon be declared innocent and his legal guardian, Harry had still spent the evening sitting alone in the Astronomy tower while his mind had been back at the Three Broomsticks, trying to remember if he ever thought to himself, "I want to kill this man." A series of tests with Ministry mediwizards and lawyers had concluded that Harry would have to go through some kind of special training to keep his abilities in check but would suffer no consequences for the demise of that Death Eater, as if any of that mattered to Harry. Well past midnight, he had returned to his bed to sleep, only to be faced with the painful reminder that he was expected to attend the funeral of the greatest man he had ever known, the one hope for victory against Voldemort. It was only then, slightly before dawn, that Harry remembered Albus Dumbledore…

"Harry?" Harry was painfully thrust back into the present as Sirius gently touched his shoulder. He had obviously asked him something, maybe several times, while Harry had focused on the loosened tie on his right sneaker.

"Sorry, what?" Harry asked, noticing again the concerned looks he was receiving from the people sitting beside him.

"The service is over," Remus answered, pointing to the empty chairs before them. "They're walking over to the lake to light the funeral pyre. Would you like to help?"

Harry had seen a send-off like this once before, a brief spot on some documentary about Vikings while Dudley went in search for batteries for the remote control. At the time, Harry had thought it was horrendous, torching a human being like that, like they were nothing. But now, thinking about Fawkes, Harry couldn't help but smile at the thought. Still, he couldn't bring himself to do it. "I'll just wait here," he answered, giving them a small smile so they'd leave him.

After the flaming ship was launched into the lake, Harry rose from his seat and made his way over to Sirius, who was speaking to a man Harry could only assume was Aberforth Dumbledore. Upon approaching, Harry caught the tail end of the conversation between him and Minerva McGonagall. "This is all they found with him," she was saying, handing Aberforth a bundle of something. "His wand, glasses, dragon-tooth pendant, and a bag of Bernie Botts Every Flavor Beans. He always did love sweets."

"Not those though," Harry interrupted, surprising even himself.

Aberforth look kindly on the boy who he, along with the rest of the wizarding world, had thought dead until this morning. True to his word as of yet, Fudge had kept the truth about Harry's survival within Ministry walls. And Aberforth was relieved to see that the child was still alive and kicking. "Here, you can have them, son," he said, handing the bag of jellybeans to Harry with a crooked smile.

"Thank you," Harry answered, still wondering why Dumbledore had had Every flavor beans at all, let alone with him at Voldemort's lair. For some reason, the time honored excuse of him being mental just didn't fit, but Harry decided to think about it later, as he was now following McGonagall and company back into the school for the reading of Dumbledore's will.

Nearly all of the people Harry hadn't known until that morning were soon gone as the reading went on, taking with them knick knacks and deeds and other personal items that had once littered the Headmaster's office. Once Aberforth received some more condolences and goodbyes, it was down to McGonagall, Sirius, Remus Lupin, the Weasleys, Moody, Hagrid, Snape and Harry.

"To Rubeus Hagrid, I leave all that you have earned," McGonagall announced, handing a Hogwarts degree to the blubbering gameskeeper. "Great man, Dumbledore," he sniffed, looking proudly at the looping script that adorned the sheepskin. 

"To Remus Lupin, I leave the loyalty of Fawkes. May his tears and song comfort you on any night of the month." Remus swallowed hard as he stroked the bird's feathers, comforted by a soft note sung in response.

"To Sirius Black, I leave the memories contained in this bit of parchment that I have no idea about," McGonagall read, shooting Sirius a questioning and somewhat fearful glance as she handed him what Harry knew to be the Marauder's Map. Dumbledore must have taken it from the imposter Moody at the end of last term. Harry had to stifle a laugh as he saw the enraged look of recognition on Snape's face, and the bemusement and Remus Lupin's.

"To Severus Snape, I leave this vial of freedom, and with it my greatest respect," McGonagall continued, handing Snape a thin cylinder of what looked like indigo fire.

"What is it?" Lupin asked, drawn in like the rest of them by the hypnotic way the potion seemed to gyrate and lick the glass.

"I've no idea," Snape answered, the first time he had spoken all day.

"Drink it," Sirius prodded, earning a scowl from Snape.

"Are you mad, Black? It could be anything, I'm not going to just drink it."

"He said it's freedom, so I don't think it's poison," Sirius retorted.

"Yes, I think you should drink it, Severus," Lupin added.

"It might not be meant to be ingested is all I'm saying," Snape frowned, sniffing at the liquid in an attempt to recognize some ingredient.

"Well, let's just think about what Dumbledore said. Unless it's an all-purpose cleaner meant to free you from the dank dungeons you hang about, I'd say you should drink it," Sirius answered, earning a laugh from Harry and a reproachful glare from both McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley. Still, Snape swallowed the potion in one go and immediately yelped in pain, clutching his forearm. 

"Severus, are you all right?" Lupin asked, trying to pry the Potion Master's hand away from his arm only to be pushed away.

"Let me," Snape growled, slowly rolling up his sleeve and nearly fainting when he saw it. Nothing. "It's gone," he whispered, feeling somehow alien in his own skin for the briefest of moments, until relief settled in.

"What's gone?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"His Dark Mark," Harry answered. "It's gone." He smiled at Snape, feeling genuinely happy for the man, no matter how insufferable he was 99% of the time.

Clearing her throat, McGonagall continued. "To the Order of the Phoenix, I leave my Pensieve and the faith that you won't really need it." Harry had no idea what that all meant, but he did see that everyone else in the room had shared a quick glance, a silent understanding.

"And to Harry Potter, I leave what is rightfully yours and the hope for a better tomorrow," McGonagall concluded, handing Harry Godric Gryffindor's sword. 

@@@

Harry sat with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin in Dumbledore's old office, long after everyone from the funeral had left Hogwarts, some to go home, some to turn their thoughts towards the whereabouts of Voldemort, some to find comfort in the closest pub. Sirius had suggested that Harry go play a round of Quidditch with Ron and the twins, anything to lift his spirits, but for the past half-hour, Harry had been unwilling, maybe even unable, to leave the tower. He knew there was really no point to sitting around and waiting for the Headmaster to come in and explain that it was all one horrible mistake. But still, he waited, staring at Gryffindor's sword and remembering.

"It doesn't make any sense," Harry blurted, causing Sirius to jump at the sudden break in silence. Harry continued on as if he hadn't noticed. "I mean, he hated Every Flavor beans!"

"Maybe he finally got a good flavor?" Sirius suggested, shooting Remus a concerned glance that said, "This boy has gone crackers, ranting on about jelly beans."

"I doubt that," Lupin answered, deciding that an exercise in triviality would do Harry more good than harm. "I remember the time you got a scab-flavored one, Padfoot."

"Oh, don't remind me," Sirius grinned. "Of course we could never get Remus here to try one," he told Harry, pointedly shooting Remus a playful scowl.

"That's because they weeded out the ones that looked like they'd cause the most bodily harm," Lupin defended, seeing the smirk on Harry's face.

"Oh, how would you know?" Sirius asked. "You never even tried the red ones, which could have been cherry turnovers for all you know."

"Those were all either paint or blood," Remus retorted, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"How do you know that?" Harry asked, extremely grateful for a short break from the rather depressing thoughts he'd been having all day.

"It's his animal magnetism I bet," Sirius grumbled.

"What he means, young Harry, is that my olfactory senses are much more adept than the average wizard's," Remus explained.

"Translated, he's saying he smells much better, but don't you believe it. I lived in the same dorm as him for seven years and I can tell you that it was no bundle of roses when he came home after the full moon, or any other time for that matter," Sirius grinned.

After watching an amusing war of glares and pulled faces, Harry returned to his original point. "But why would he have these with him that night? Of all nights?"

"I don't know Harry," Lupin answered quietly, quickly regaining his composure. "Do you have an idea about it, or are you just picking something to argue about?"

"Well, I have no idea, but I don't think I'm just fishing for anything to grab at. Don't you two think it's strange?"

"It is a bit odd, yes," Sirius admitted, grabbing the bag of beans and looking inside, as if it held something other than candy. Unfortunately, it didn't appear to.

"Let me see," Remus said, holding his hand out for the pouch.

"Oh, like you can do something I can't," Sirius muttered, the bravado in his voice clearly put on for a show, since he had a good idea that Remus Lupin could do many things he couldn't.

Lupin, ignoring the comment, pulled out his wand and pointed it at the bag. "Finite Incantatem."

And suddenly, the three were no longer looking at a bag of Every Flavor Beans. They were looking at the Bloodstone.

"I knew that," Sirius whispered, though Harry could tell by his strangled voice that he was just as shocked as the rest of them.

"He must have transfigured it before…" Harry said, staring at the crimson facets that seemed to reflect every surface of the office. "But if he had the stone, what went wrong?" he demanded, trying to understand why he was so angry that the stone was here with them. Maybe it was because he'd rather have the Professor there instead.

"Maybe it was the transfiguration that actually did it," suggested Sirius. "That stone is a very powerful magical object, maybe it gave off so much energy that it blew the roof off the place?"

"I don't think that could be it," frowned Remus, upset that there were still so many unanswered questions about that night, and that, in all likelihood, they would remain unanswered. "It's true that the structure was torn open and that most of the people died, but I went and saw the damage done to the bodies, to _Dumbledore's_ body, and there's no way he could have been at the center of the blast. He didn't have a mark on him."

"What do you mean, he didn't have a mark on him?" asked Sirius and Harry simultaneously. "How did he die then?" Harry continued.

"They don't really know," Remus answered uncomfortably. He'd rather not have this conversation in front of Harry. He had begun to notice the boy's increasing disillusionment with the Ministry and another testament to their ignorance might push him to the edge of cynicism. And the last thing Harry Potter needed was one less thing to believe in. Besides that, Sirius's open hatred for all things Ministry was more than obvious. But Harry just took it at face value and said little else as he continued to stare at the stone.

"What are we going to do with it?" he asked after a few moments.

"I'll ask Minerva," Remus answered. "She might want it kept here or, if not, Gringotts."

"Yes, we wouldn't want that thing getting into the wrong hands," Sirius added. 

"Too bad we don't have Luca around to destroy it," Harry said.

"Well, it might come in useful if-" Sirius quickly began, before being interrupted by Harry.

"What happened to him that day?" Harry asked. "Dumbledore said he caught him talking to Wormtail, but what happened after that?"

Sirius shot Remus a look before answering, "He was killed so we could make the Polyjuice potion."

Harry had the distinct feeling that they were holding back on him, though why he did not know. Maybe they didn't want to talk about any more death, not after Dumbledore and all that had happened in Hogsmeade. "Doesn't seem like something Dumbledore would do," he mused, finding it hard to imagine that Dumbledore ever hurt anyone in his life, no matter how powerful a wizard he was. He was the type of man that knew that one's strength didn't lie in the ability to kill life, but in the ability to defend it without prejudice.

"Harry, it was something that had to be done. Luca was a threat to all of us and we needed another operative there with you once we found this out," Sirius answered.

"You killed him, didn't you?" Harry asked.

"No, I did," whispered Remus Lupin.

"But-"

"Harry, I'm not going to sit here and defend my actions, or say that it was Dumbledore's idea or that Luca was _only a vampire_. None of that would be honest, coming from a man who certainly isn't _only_ a werewolf. But I can tell you that it wasn't an execution. It wasn't extermination. There was an altercation, people I cared about were threatened, and I was the first to react. I'm not sorry for it, and I'd do it again if the situation was the same," Remus answered stiffly, momentarily forgetting that he didn't need protection against the two people sitting in front of him.

"Remus, that stuff you said to me the other morning at the breakfast hall, you know that goes for you too, right?" Harry asked, hoping that his friend didn't feel half the regret he felt for taking another man's life.

"It doesn't though, Harry," Lupin answered sadly. "It was me. It wasn't the wolf or some uncontrollable surge of magic. I killed Luca."

"And saved me," Sirius added, giving Lupin a stern look that warned him against any more self-loathing. 

"Why, what happened?" Harry asked.

"I was going to do the job myself until that bugger got the better of me," Sirius growled.

"You know, I don't think killing people is your strong suit," Harry answered thoughtfully. "Last time you tried it didn't go too well either." They all had to laugh at that, if only to forget what they were really talking about.

@@@

Harry returned to the common room to fill Ron and Hermione in on all of the news and scenes from the funeral. He was reluctant to tell them about Remus Lupin killing Luca, thinking it really was a private thing. Next to grieving, it was one of the most private things in Harry's opinion. But he had missed his friends so much through the whole ordeal that he decided they deserved to know everything.

"Wow," was what Ron had to say, mentally picturing Remus Lupin: Vampire Slayer, making a note to remember not to get on the man's bad side, no matter how frail he looked.

"Won't he get in trouble?" worried Hermione after picking her jaw up off the floor. "Paragraph 12 of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans says that-"

"Oh, come off it, Hermione!" Ron scolded. "It was self-defense."

"I didn't think to ask him," answered Harry, ignoring Ron's comment. "But what do you think about the explosion, and the way they found him?"

"Maybe he's still alive," Ron mumbled, prodding his knight to take Hermione's bishop.

"Ron, I hardly-" Hermione began, but the idea made Harry smile, picturing Albus Dumbledore, yet again, sunning on some tropical beach. "Yeah, maybe," he answered as he sat back on the sofa and watched Ginny and the twins playing a game of gobstones across the way. Sitting there, watching his friends acting like the children they all were supposed to be, Harry's mind wandered on to happier things. Like a school year without Draco Malfoy and all of his goons. And a more tolerable Severus Snape. And seeing Cho's smile when she found out he was still alive. And Sirius being declared innocent and Harry's guardian. And Ginny being there to talk to. And further out. Fred and George opening their joke shop. Voldemort being found and defeated. Ron and Hermione getting married. And even if all of these things didn't happen like Harry hoped, the point was that he _hoped_. And that alone was worth living for.

The End

****

A/N: So that's it. Thanks to all of you, yet again. Your reviews made this worth writing. And thanks to JKR, who owns all of these wonderful characters and let me borrow her world for a short while. And maybe I'll write a sequel, if you peeps want me to. But for now, I'll see you on the flip side ;)


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